Bound Together
by caldera32
Summary: Merlin and Arthur are captured and forced to fight together in a tournament of questionable nature. Occurs after "Patient Zero" but can stand alone. Features Bamf Merlin and Arthur as well as whump, of course
1. A Rough Start

A/N: So here we are at the start of another fiction – I'm so excited!  
Is it odd that I'm also excited about Merlin starting back up soon even though I probably won't get to watch it for a while? I think it probably is.  
Please, no spoilers everybody.

I'm very glad the voters agreed with me since I got more and more attached to the idea of writing this story next with each day that passed and I've thought through most of it already – if only I could just copy and paste directly from my brain to my computer, that would make things go so much more quickly.  
Well, the sooner you start the sooner you finish so let's do this thing :)

Setting the Scene: Takes place after "Patient Zero" (during season 3, post serket incident) and before Morgana's first take-over

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, places, etc. of BBC Merlin; please support the show!

* * *

It wasn't that Jazar _enjoyed_ crouching behind bushes, per se, it was more the results of said crouching that brought him to the forest of Ascetir with his small band of followers.  
They had word that Prince Arthur of Camelot would be passing this way with only his manservant as company.  
Even Jazar had heard of the prince's battle prowess- something that made him a very valuable quarry.

A mourning dove's call brought his attention to the road- one of his scouts had seen the pair approaching.  
Preparing himself, he allowed a smile to stretch across his tanned face.  
He and his people would be eating like kings after this.

* * *

As much as Merlin appreciated Arthur accompanying him to Ealdor, he really would've been happier if the prat had stayed in Camelot.  
Sure, riding there on horseback was much better than walking, but he had been planning on trying out a teleportation spell or two on this particular trip- something made distinctly impossible by the prince's presence.  
The man had been rather overprotective since his servant had recovered from his illness and resultant injuries – something that both touched Merlin and drove him mad.  
The fact that he now had to look after Arthur even during his 'vacation' also didn't help his mood.

An out-of-place sound interrupted his ill-tempered thoughts.  
_I've never heard that bird call before – an owl? Not during the day, surely..._

"Arthur, I think som-"

Then the sleeping spell hit and the only sound was that of two bodies crashing to the forest floor.

* * *

Waking up with his face smashed against a cold floor in places unknown really didn't surprise him anymore, but that doesn't mean he enjoyed it.

Groaning as much in exasperation as discomfort, Merlin struggled to sit against the bars of the cage surrounding him- having one's hands bound behind their back made such things more difficult than they ought to be.

Surveying his prison he discovered a small group of similarly restrained men scattered about the confines, a space probably about six foot square.  
The cage seemed to be made of iron and was mounted on giant iron wheels, bordered on sides and back by men armed with swords and the occasional crossbow.  
_Great._

An alarming thought occurred to Merlin then and he quickly scanned his fellow captives.  
All of them were small, thin, or otherwise weak-looking men; in short, none of them were Arthur.

Panicked, he rose to his knees and searched the space outside the cage.  
Seeing no sign of his master, he took a breath to call him "Ar-"

A hand covered his mouth "Shh! They don't like it when we yell."  
A young face, probably around 15 years old, gazed at him from beneath scraggly red hair.  
Merlin nodded his understanding.

"I'm Jonathan, you can call me Jon" he said, withdrawing his hand and sitting in front of Merlin, whose eyes were drawn to the boy's wrists.

"I'm Merlin. Um, sorry but, why are you shackled?" Everyone else was simply tied with rope.

"Only one question? I'm surprised. You even skipped past the usual 'where am I' and 'who are these people'." Jon gave him a slight grin.

"Perhaps I'm becoming too used to these situations." Merlin grinned in return.

"Tough luck there, but then again you just may have great luck to still be alive to get stuck in this mess. Debatable. Now, returning to your question – I am a permanent slave of this merry little band here and so I have been graced with these bracelets to remind me of my standing. You and the other men here have also been chosen as slaves and will receive your own when we reach their stronghold."

He cocked his head in a pensive manner.  
"More of a tumble-down old castle, really. I think it might have been some sort of outpost for Uther's men during the heyday of the Great Purge."

The warlock winced at this but returned to his main point of concern.  
"Do you know what happened to the man I was with? Blond, wearing chain mail, looks supercilious even in sleep?"

The slave shrugged.  
"I didn't see him, but he's probably in the other cage. That one's for the people going to the games so they keep them all in spelled sleep."

Merlin didn't like any part of that answer.  
"What are these 'games' then?"

"Have you ever heard of the Key and Sword Tournament? No? Well, it's a huge event held once every five years. Basically a bunch of people get together and fight each other while other people bet on the outcome. Most of the events are like a regular tournament: big, burly men showing off their skills to win fame and prizes. Thing is, the audience doesn't always find it- _entertaining _enough to watch the willing participants fight each other. So then we come to the main attraction- the Gauntlet."

Jon paused to make sure the guards weren't going to make an issue of all his talking.  
"The Gauntlet is a series of challenges, some of them intellectual in nature, some random, most physical – we're talking everything from riddles to gryphon-fighting."

The red-haired man seemed to expect some sort of reaction to that so Merlin nodded encouragingly.  
Jon shrugged, clearly becoming used to the man's lackluster responses.  
" A few people enter the Gauntlet willingly, the prize is always substantial, but most are entered against their will by 'sponsors' looking to claim the prize for themselves. Jazar and his men here, they collect people to force into these fights- 'offerings' they call them. The Gauntlet has to be faced as a pair, one melee fighter and one sorcerer."

Merlin's eyebrows rose, but Jon continued before he could comment.  
"The tournament takes place in Cenred's Kingdom so it's not illegal or anything. Anyway, Jazar has magic but he never risks going after other sorcerers- he just collects strong guys and sells them to the highest bidder. Though I suppose that could just be because magic is so scarce in Camelot these days."

Merlin was rather gratified to see the boy seemed to see that as a bad thing.  
"I was pretty young last time, but I remember them living pretty well for a while after the tournament was over. I'd just been captured back then..." he finished wistfully.

"You've been their slave for five years?" Merlin asked sadly.

Jon flashed him a wan smile "Oh yes, and my reward is to ride _in_ the cage instead of walking behind it."

Merlin would have replied, but they had abruptly lurched to a stop, prompting him to look around and realize night was falling.

"All right you lot, time to settle down. I don't want to hear any more of your prattle" one of their captors announced arrogantly, striking the bars with his sword to emphasize his point.

As Jazar's men turned their attention toward setting up camp Merlin turned back to Jon.  
"Five years is more than enough Jon. We're getting out of here tonight."


	2. Buckling Down

A/N: I have found that choosing genres is strangely difficult for me. That is all.  
Nah, I lied. I'm not done yet.

Is it bad that I spent more time putting together the cover for this fic than I did writing the first chapter?  
I think it probably is.  
If only making things more difficult than they need to be wasn't so heavily ingrained in human nature.

My utmost gratitude to all the reviewers giving such support at the start of this new story – you make my heart glow with unadulterated felicity. Truly.  
And to Glacier22 – Sorry, I was wrong. No reveal this chapter. Probably chapter three, maybe four

All that aside- enjoy the chapter!

* * *

"_Five years is more than enough Jon. We're getting out of here tonight."_

Jon was so flabbergasted he didn't even have the presence of mind to argue.  
While he sat there open-mouthed Merlin managed to get his bound wrists in front of him by contorting his legs and looping his arms around them.

Upon inspection the ropes proved to be one continuous whole with no knots to pick apart.  
If they hadn't currently been digging into his wrists Merlin might have been impressed with this neat little application of magic.

He cast about himself for something- _anything_ to help get these ropes off. As far as he could tell, the only things in this cage that were even _potentially_ sharp were the buckles on his boots (they had taken his belt along with the small purse and utilitarian knife that had been attached to it).

With a sigh he unbuckled one of his boot straps and managed to tear it free, leaving a small hole behind.  
_The things I do for that prat._

One of the slavers- now gathered around a campfire enjoying dinner- coughed as he passed by on his way into the woods, distracting Jon from his staring contest with Merlin's boot.  
The warlock took this opportunity to impart a bit more sharpness to his buckle before setting to the ropes, making sure his actions were hidden from any prying eyes.

He was making good progress, nearly half-way through, when Jon cleared his throat to warn Merlin of the brigand's return. He stilled immediately and the man passed by without incident.

A few more minutes of Jon's nervous fidgeting and the ropes fell away, Merlin quickly hiding them beneath his crossed legs as he pocketed the sharpened buckle and positioned his arms as if they were still tied behind his back. Shrugging his jacket loose, he managed to successfully hide the lack of actual bindings on his hands as he turned back to Jon.

"Do they post guards at night?" He whispered.

"Only one, and they usually fall asleep pretty quickly" the boy answered in equally hushed tones.

Merlin nodded in satisfaction. "When the time comes I want you to free the others while I work on the cage door – can you do that?"

"Of course" Jon looked pleased to be so involved in the escape plan, then he noticed Merlin looking guiltily at the shackles.  
"Don't worry about these things- I'm used to them."

The pale young man looked at him sadly but nodded- he'd have to find an opportunity to magic them off later.

Turning so he could see the other cage, he located Arthur's sleeping form and settled in for the wait.

* * *

A couple hours of mindless staring later, Jazar's men were snoring peacefully and Merlin was cautiously unfolding himself.

"Jon" he whispered into the darkness.

"Ready" came the reply.

"Let's get out of here" Merlin said, handing over the sharpened buckle and moving toward the locked door.

Waiting a moment until Jon settled down to begin cutting the first set of ropes, the warlock cast a spell to silence the hinges of the door and pretended to pick the lock with another boot buckle.  
Watching the boy's progress from the corner of his eye, Merlin waited until Jon was nearly finished with the last prisoner before unlocking the door with a flash of gold.

The resultant 'click' was enough to cause the captives to surge forward, thankfully with enough control to do so quietly.

Merlin hopped out of the cage and began helping the others down, whispering instructions to them.  
"Go into the woods, walk for a mile or so and then run as fast as you dare in the dark. There is a village directly east of here- Ealdor. The people there will see you get help."

"What about you?" Jon asked.

"I'll be right behind you. I have a prat to wake up."

The former slave looked like he was going to argue so Merlin cut him off "I need you to look after the others, they seem a bit unsteady yet."

The redhead glared at him, but turned and hurried into the woods regardless.

That done, Merlin whispered his own sleeping spell to make sure he wouldn't be interrupted during his exploits.  
Luckily for him the slavers seemed to assume that no one would try to escape as the sleeping spell on the cage was nothing more than a few runes scratched into the frame, easily counteracted with a handy sharp rock used to strike them out.

With a word the cage door flew open and the servant jumped inside to begin waking the inhabitants.

Arthur, ever slow to wake, was still dozing peacefully.  
Merlin shook his head at the prince and, seeing no injuries, deposited him outside before returning to the cage to wake the others and direct them toward Ealdor.

"Let's have you lazy daisy." Merlin proclaimed, lightly smacking Arthur's face.

"I thought we'd agreed that one was no good" the prince groaned, slowly getting to his feet.  
"What happened?"

"Well, I was just about to warn you of an attack when you fainted like a girl and fell off your horse. I valiantly tried to fight them off but sadly we were captured. However, I have managed to free everyone and now we are escaping."

Arthur snorted. "I'll delay my response until we're safely away."

Merlin nodded, now serious once more.  
"Right. This way then."  
He took off for the forest, Arthur right behind him.

"**Ástríce!**"

The two flew through the air and crashed violently into the trees.

Merlin cursed his inattention as he once more sank into unconsciousness.


	3. Quality Control

A/N: Okay, reveal _next_ chapter then.

* * *

Jazar was beside himself with glee.  
Prince Arthur himself sat bound and snoozing in his very own cage.  
The man was so beside himself he couldn't even sleep, instead choosing to move away from the camp a bit and stare up at the moon, planning out how to spend his riches.

It was for this reason he was able to hear the suspicious sounds of several people leaving said camp and was on his way to investigate when he heard something about _daisies_ of all things.  
Jazar's men wouldn't be caught dead talking about daisies.

He reached the cages just in time to see his prized catch heading for the hills with a lanky companion.  
Without hesitation he attacked, sending them both into unconsciousness with a satisfying 'thud'.

Jazar stared at the two with suspicion, noting his still-sleeping men and the now-neutralized magic cage. He was no fool, chances were one of his captives had had magic- and who had he captured today? That skinny wretch currently lying senseless next to the prince.

Now Jazar was not one to take undue chances, but neither was he one to pass up an opportunity.  
Besides, he had just the thing to keep his new merchandise in check.  
It would, of course, have to be tested to see how valuable it was; but Jazar had a feeling he would be selling a complete set this year.

He didn't even bother repressing the evil grin that spread across his face at the thought of all the profit coming his way.

* * *

Merlin woke to the sound of someone calling his name- an annoyingly familiar someone.  
He jolted to full wakefulness -_Arthur_.  
_Did I sleep in? Wait, where are we?_

Looking about the dark clearing, the events of the day started coming back to his battered brain.  
_Bandits -no, slavers._

There was something decidedly un-neckerchief-like around his neck, something cold and heavy.  
He would have investigated it further if he hadn't been interrupted by the usual obnoxious voice.

"And you expect me to believe _I_ was the one fainting like a girl?"  
Arthur's voice sounded from behind him and he almost jumped from the nearness of it.

It was then that he noticed the ropes firmly securing him to the other body pressed against his back.  
"Arthur, what- ?"

"Wish I could tell you, but for now we should probably focus on the armed and apparently angry men currently charging at us."

"What?" Merlin tried to look behind him, alarmed.

"We'll be fine, I can take care of them- I just need you to stand up. Wouldn't want to be caught relaxing when death comes to call, eh?"  
His tone did little to lighten the sentiment.

The two struggled to their feet- an impressive accomplishment when bound back-to-back with ropes covering the better part of each man's torso.

The warlock turned as much as he could and saw that there were only two men rushing toward Arthur.  
A quick flash of the eyes and one of them tripped, conveniently spearing the other with his sword as he fell.

"Well there's a bit of luck." Arthur said happily.

Merlin rolled his eyes, facing front just in time to see four men approaching his position.  
"Brace yourself, Arthur."

"What? Why- ooph!"  
Air was forcefully expelled from Arthur's lungs as Merlin pushed backwards and forced him to bend over so he himself could use both legs to kick the overzealous slaver who had arrived in front of his fellows.  
Another burst of magic ensured the man flew back with enough force to knock down the three who had been a bit too close behind him.  
Providing magical backup was a lot more convenient with Arthur stuck to his back; he was both out of the way and incapable of seeing any magical occurrences.

Merlin only had a moment to appreciate his handiwork before he was being spun around, Arthur demanding to see what was going on.

The prince was flabbergasted by the sight of four men in a heap, having presumably been defeated by his gangly manservant.  
"Merlin, how on earth-?"

The aforementioned shrugged "All I had to do was kick the first one, the others all ran right into him."

Arthur shook his head "I never thought I'd see the day- these bandits are even more clumsy than you Merlin."

"Oh we're no ordinary bandits." A cruel voice spoke behind Merlin, cutting off his disgruntled reply.  
The servant turned a bit so that he was looking at the man sidelong.

He appeared to be about Merlin's height though he was broader than Arthur; his tan, bald head was scarred with a large pale 'x' that crossed over his left ear and he wore dark leather armor, chain mail poking out from underneath it in places.

"Jazar, I presume" the servant's cold tone was enough to shock Arthur.  
_What does he know that I don't?_  
He wasn't sure he actually wanted the answer to that question.

"Indeed. Though I'm afraid you have me a bit at a disadvantage- I don't know _your_ name."

"And I see no reason to share it."

Arthur felt that perhaps he should be the one talking, being the Prince and all, but Merlin seemed to be doing just fine on his own- a fact he was still trying to absorb.  
_First he takes out four men and now he's talking down the enemy? Where is this coming from?_

But then Arthur recalled the first (and the second) time he had met the commoner.  
_Maybe it isn't all that surprising._

Jazar chuckled a bit. "No matter, I'll be selling you soon enough. But first, **cáf!**"

Merlin screamed and would have fallen to his knees if it wasn't for Arthur holding him up.  
Whatever the thing was around his neck, it was sending jolts of crackling pain throughout his entire body like lightening strikes.

Arthur, meanwhile, was fighting to remain upright against the sudden writhing weight at his back while also biting back panic.  
"Merlin! Merlin, what's happening?"

"Like that, do you? It's one of Uther's little toys from the good ol' days– just one word is enough to keep anyone in check. Pity he stopped using them, they are _magic_ after all- makes them hard to come by. Be glad I don't have another or you'd be a matching pair."  
The man grinned as if he'd said something clever.

Arthur was not glad.  
He was also losing his fight with gravity as Merlin had passed out- at least Arthur hoped that was what had happened since the man was no longer screaming or supporting his own weight in any way.

"Oh don't worry, I wouldn't do anything to lessen the value of my inventory- especially when I've found something so _valuable_" Jazar said, mocking the prince's worried expression.

"What do you mean by that?" Belligerence was always something Arthur could rely on.

"You can ask your friend here when he wakes up- seems he may be moderately well informed. You may be waiting a while though." Another leer.

It was a testament to the level of his concern that Arthur didn't even bother protesting that Merlin was just a servant or spout some other lip-service to deny the relationship between the two as a group of slavers came forward to drag the pair back to the cage.


	4. Eyes will Roll

A/N: I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who read and reviewed 'A Moment Aside'- that's the thing about oneshots, no second chapter in which to thank reviewers ;)  
Should've done this with my first chapter, but better late than never, eh?

I feel a bit abashed now, as I certainly wouldn't call the reveal 'riveting', but I hope that it is at least unusual. There were endless ways to work a reveal into this piece but I've had this in mind for a while and wanted to use it before going any of the more conventional routes.

And to all the nay-sayers: yes, you may argue that people are out of character, but this is _my_ alternate universe and I'll do what I want. So there.

Now, back to the show!

* * *

Arthur fought every step of the way, even managing to brace his legs against the frame of the cage door when his captors had tried to toss him and Merlin inside, pushing back and causing them all to land in an inglorious heap.  
The prince wound up face down in the mud, having twisted to prevent crushing Merlin beneath him.

Eventually the pair were once more secure in the cage, Arthur knowing that his resistance had been mostly futile (though it _had_ made him feel a bit better).  
Apparently having learned nothing, the slavers once more dispersed and left the prisoners to their own devices.

Dismissing the ropes as a lost cause for the moment, the royal turned his attention to his unconscious servant.  
"Merlin... Merlin!"

Receiving no response, Arthur began knocking his head back against the dark-haired one behind him.  
"Merlin! This is no time to be sleeping!"

"Knocking an unconscious person about the head is hardly the best way to wake them" Merlin replied groggily, conveniently forgetting all the times he himself had taken a similar course of action.

"Worked, didn't it? Now, we need to get out of these ropes."

"Did they take the dagger from your boot?"

"How do you know about that?" Arthur asked a bit petulantly- it was supposed to be a _secret_ dagger.

"Really Arthur? Are you forgetting who cleans your boots? Did you never notice your dagger was always clean and sharp despite being shoved into your smelly footwear all day?"

No, he honestly hadn't taken note of that fact. Being a prince he never truly had to deal with any of his possessions being less than perfectly presentable- well, that was until Merlin had become his servant.

Right, a change of topic was in order.  
"Are you alright? Is that whatever-it-is still hurting you?"

Merlin's voice took on an edge of exasperation "I'm fine Arthur. I think it stopped as soon as I blacked out. Now, your dagger?"

The prince doubted he could trust his friend's assertions but returned to the task at hand.  
"I think it's still there. If I bend my leg you should be able to reach it."

"Let's give it a go." Merlin reached out as Arthur stretched his leg backwards, fumbling with the prince's boot until his long fingers felt the hilt of the small blade.  
"I've got it." He announced, quickly setting to the ropes.

"Careful, wouldn't want you cutting my fingers off by mistake." Arthur's tone was only half-joking.

"Your faith in me is inspiring, Sire."  
Arthur was certain he could _hear_ the servant's eyes rolling.

A few moments of impatient fidgeting later, the prince felt a slight release of pressure and heard Merlin's triumphant laugh.  
"Ha! All we have to do now is unwind it..."

The two worked the rope off layer by layer, progressing more and more quickly as they went until it was all off.

Facing each other, they grinned for a moment before turning to the next challenge.

Arthur's gaze darkened as it fell upon the silver collar around his companion's neck, the intricate carvings gracing its surface doing nothing to lessen his distaste for the object.  
"Now let's see about getting this off" he said, reaching forward.

Merlin waved his hands away "Don't you think we should focus on getting away first?"

"And what if he uses it again, hm? I'm certainly not going to carry you all the way to safety with a band of criminals on my heels." That was a lie- he knew full well he would haul his friend across the entirety of Camelot if it came down to it.

Glaring at him, the servant relented and Arthur once more reached out.  
"It's got some sort of clasp in the back, doesn't look like it's locked..."  
As his fingers closed around the metal the two men shouted in pain, Merlin jerking away from Arthur's grasp as the prince shook his burnt digits.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't-"  
Merlin shook his head, not blaming him.  
Wanting to reach up to soothe his neck but too afraid to do so he instead settled for grasping his shoulders, heaving a couple of heavy breaths before regaining his composure.

"So, escaping first?" His voice wavered only slightly.

"Looks that way." Arthur reached out to grab the lock only to draw his hand back with a hiss of pain.

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

"Nothing" the prince denied a bit too quickly, a pale hand darting out to grasp his wrist.

"Arthur these are serious burns. I'll need to treat them before they get infected."  
The fingers on both of his hands were an angry red that darkened to black in the centers, the charred flesh slowly weeping fluid.

The prince stubbornly yanked his hand away. "We have more important things to do than-"

"If you don't let me take care of this you could lose the use of your fingers Arthur, maybe even both of your hands."  
Merlin cut him off, his tone deadly serious.

"And what about you? Don't tell me you weren't burned" Arthur challenged.

Taken aback by this new angle, the would-be healer took a moment to respond.  
"I honestly don't think I was, not like you certainly. Even if I had been I doubt it could be treated without making it worse."  
His patient eyed him with suspicion.  
"Stop being stubborn Arthur. We can hardly expect to get out of this with you unable to use your hands."

Not wanting to deal with his master's inevitable arguments Merlin once more reached out and grabbed his wrists, stretching the skin just enough to silence the man.

That done, he took stock of what he had to treat the burns with and what he would need.  
Well, he could tear his shirt for bandages... and that was about it.

Sighing, the warlock considered his options and came to a tentative conclusion.  
"Sit down Arthur."

Detecting something odd in his servant's tone, the blond actually complied without protest.

Moving over to the cage door Merlin clearly felt the spell placed there, rendering the cage inescapable without further application of magic.  
_Right. No help for it then. Had to happen eventually._

He took two deep breaths to calm his nerves before settling down in front of his partner in destiny.  
"Arthur, I need to be honest with you and I need you to hear me out- will you do that for me?"

Wondering if he should be fearing for the idiot's sanity, Arthur nodded.

"Arthur, I have magic- I was born with it." He had planned on saying more, but that was all he could force out under the prince's unblinking gaze.

Also expecting there to be more, the addressee spent a moment in frozen silence before sighing.  
Tense shoulders relaxed as he looked kindly at his friend.  
"I had considered the possibility."

He paused a moment to enjoy his servant's thunderstruck expression.  
"It's okay Merlin, I trust you."

"What?" The warlock squawked.  
He had imagined this scenario countless times, had foreseen hundreds of possible ways his secret could come out- in none of them was he the one being left speechless in surprise.

"_Hon_estly Merlin. How many times have you been accused of sorcery? You've even confessed in front of the council!"  
Even _thinking_ about it made him want to smack the idiot upside the head.  
"I admit I found the idea completely absurd the first time or two, but when the question keeps coming up I can hardly avoid thinking about how I should respond if- well you know."

Seeing that Merlin was still in shock, Arthur continued.  
"Look, I've said and done things that I'm not proud of and I'm sure I've been hurting you without meaning to so I..." he couldn't stand looking into those blue eyes anymore and turned his head to stare at the iron bars "I'm sorry, and I want you to know I understand why you had to keep it a secret."

Still not hearing any sign of life from Merlin, the prince turned back to him only to see the man gently taking his burnt hands into his own cool ones.

"**Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare**"

Arthur stared in wonder as that familiar pair of eyes swirled with gold and a soothing sensation spread through his fingers.  
His eyes widened as the burn started to fade before disappearing all together.  
He was so transfixed he failed to notice Merlin's grimace of pain as the magic left him, an expression quickly smoothed over before the prince looked up in gratitude.

"That was... amazing."  
Later he would be embarrassed at this reaction, flexing his newly whole hands in awe, but for now he was too entranced.

The warlock smiled "I'm just glad it worked. Would've ruined the moment otherwise."

They both laughed for a moment.

"Say, could you do something about- this?" Arthur gestured at his mud-spattered face and body.

Merlin looked at him in disbelief.  
Healing was one thing, but for Arthur to _ask_ him to do such, well, _trivial_ magic was a big step.

"To be honest, ever since I started thinking you might have magic I've been rather... _curious _about it" Arthur said, seeming to divine his thoughts.  
The prince blushed a bit "I even gave you extra duties sometimes hoping to catch you doing them with magic."

The servant's eyebrows reached new heights- Gaius would have been proud.  
"Prat."

"Idiot" came the formulaic retort.  
"If you had simply cheated on your chores we could have had this conversation at a more appropriate time."  
The prince put on his best 'prat face' and asked condescendingly: "So, _servant_, are you going to remove this mud or not?"

Smothering a grin, Merlin complied "**clǽnsian!**"

This time Arthur saw the wave of pain crash over his friend, leaving him with brow pinched and teeth clenched.  
"Merlin!" He grasped the man's shoulders in concern.

"I'm _fine._" The words ground out between the gritted teeth.

"Oh yes, _clearly._ Idiot. Why didn't you tell me it was hurting you? I could've lived with having a bit of mud on me."

"It's fine, Arthur. Just a passing discomfort."  
Seeing that he did, in fact, seem to be pain-free Arthur smacked the back of his head.  
"Ow!"

"Don't do that again- I don't want you doing any magic until we get that thing off you."

"Well that's hardly going to work considering we've been captured by a sorcerer and stuck in a magic cage."

Arthur eyed him for a moment before ceding the point.  
"Fine, but _no more_ than is _absolutely _necessary."

"_Yes_ Gaius" Merlin answered, rolling his eyes.

"Heard that before, have you?"  
He wasn't surprised the physician had known, it would've been much more remarkable if he _hadn't_.

Merlin was standing now, looking down at Arthur uncertainly.  
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Rolling his own eyes, Arthur reached a hand up so Merlin could pull him to his feet.  
"Do you want to be executed that badly? I suppose I could arrange it, seeing as how you're so attached to the idea."

The warlock raised his hands and backed away slightly "On no, I'm perfectly happy to remain whole and uncooked, thank you all the same."

"Good, because I'm going to need you if we're to escape and it would be a bit awkward to have to kill you afterward."

The other man simply grinned in response before turning to face the spelled door.  
It was the most open and genuinely happy smile he'd ever seen on his friend's face.


	5. Nonchalance

A/N: ^_^ I am so pleased by the reaction to last chapter's reveal, I was expecting at least a couple of complaints but wound up pleasantly surprised. (See my great big smile?)  
You guys are awesome.

So this chapter was supposed to start out with Jon and the escapees, but I totally forgot to make the sun rise last chapter so now I'll just have to mix things up.  
My apologies to all the Jon fangirls as his part has been curtailed for the time being.  
However, for all of you depraved individuals (of which I am one): rejoice for the whump shall commence ahead of schedule! But not until next chapter.

Sorry, but I decided to make this a short one. Some sort of work crew is going to be in my apartment tomorrow and Saturday so I'm not sure if I'd be able to finish the extended version.  
Thus you'll either get one shortie or multiple shorter chapters instead of (potentially) nothing.  
Cheers!

* * *

As Merlin fiddled with the door Arthur surveyed their surroundings with trepidation.  
Where had all of the men gone? It was like they _wanted_ them to escape!  
A sudden cheering behind a copse of trees answered his question, but did little to allay his suspicions.

"Merlin, don't they seem a little too... at ease?"

"I can see why- the spells on this cage are thicker than Morgana's make-up. Nothing I can't handle, of course, but it's more than enough for your typical sorcerer."

Arthur smothered a grin at the (entirely inappropriate) comparison, then sobered as the second sentence sank in.  
"Just how powerful are you Merlin?"

The man just shrugged, continuing to mutter at the iron bars.

"_Mer_lin."

The servant paused and turned to give his full attention to the discussion.  
He hesitated for a moment before speaking.  
"Remember the illness a few weeks back, when Morgause attacked?"*

Arthur's jaw clenched.  
He still had the occasional nightmare of Merlin lying on the floor broken, bleeding, _dead_.  
That was not an experience he could readily forget.

"It wasn't just a magical disease, it was a disease that infected the magic inside a person. The... _sorcerer_ told me the severity of the symptoms indicated the power of the wielder, though they were never supposed to cause anything beyond discomfort."  
Blue eyes looked at him intently.

"But Merlin you almost _died_- you _were_ dead for a moment!"  
The warlock's eyebrows rose at that- no one had told him _that_ part of the story.

"Well, that's how powerful I am. Glad we had this talk."  
Merlin clapped the open-mouthed prince on the shoulder.  
_Serves him right for surprising me earlier_.  
He turned back to the door, satisfied at Arthur's flummoxed expression.

A few more whispered incantations and all that remained was the physical lock itself.  
Merlin faced his fellow prisoner- currently holding his head in his hands, mumbling to himself.  
"Arthur, I need you to promise me something."

His serious tone caused the prince to give him a sharp look.

"If they use the collar on me again, if I'm- _incapacitated_, you need to escape on your own. Don't argue with me Arthur, it's foolish for both of us to remain trapped. Jazar has already stated that he won't harm me, but he has made no such promises about you and let's face it Arthur- fighters are a lot easier to replace than magic-users."

Face nearly as red as his absent cape, the royal tried once more to interrupt but was drowned out.

"No. Arthur, if one of us can get free that will be much better for the other than being caged together. Please, promise me you will escape on your own if it comes to it."

Blue eyes stared into blue eyes, both unwavering.

"Fine." Arthur snapped.

Merlin continued staring at him in suspicion for a moment before giving up, knowing he would get no better response.

"Alright then- ready?"  
Dagger in hand, Arthur nodded.  
"Here we go."

And with a flash of gold the two stepped out of the cage into the light of dawn.

* * *

Hunith hefted her basket, preparing to collect the day's harvest from the village fields.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, making the short wheat stalks shine like gold.  
She took a moment to appreciate the sight, remembering a time when Merlin used to play in these same fields.

Her reverie was broken by the sight of several ragged individuals emerging from the tree line at the edge of her vision.

Morning chores forgotten, Hunith called out to some nearby villagers and ran forward to investigate.

* * *

*Reference to _Patient Zero_, this piece's predecessor- I recommend checking it out if you haven't already done so ^_~


	6. Quake

A/N: And now for the part everyone's waiting for- whumpage. Don't even bother denying it.

I found myself wishing I had set this a bit later so Gwen could be in Ealdor while this was happening, but other than that bit it really wouldn't work out. *sigh* Darned continuity- such as it is at this point.

Meanwhile, back at the cage:

* * *

Arthur and Merlin stole across the clearing, moving with special care in the blinding light of the new day.  
They had nearly reached the forest when a sharp whistle rent the air, resulting in a ring of slavers appearing from behind the trees surrounding them.

Arthur cursed.  
He _knew_ it was too good to be true.

Merlin, meanwhile, was pivoting in place and awkwardly dragging his heel in a way that created a wobbly circle around himself.

"Stay close, Arthur."  
Merlin pulled the royal within the circle before kneeling down and placing his hand flat on the ground, intoning "**ábifian!**"

The prince quickly forgot the discomfort of his current position when waves of force radiated out from their small circle of safety, causing ripples in the earth that knocked Jazar's men down hard.

"Run!" The warlock gasped, struggling to his feet and pulling the awestruck prince along behind him.

"**cáf**" came the cold voice as Merlin fell to the ground once more, screaming and clawing at the collar- burnt fingers going unnoticed in the greater pain shooting through his limbs.

Arthur was at his side in an instant, holding his arms in an attempt to prevent the man from harming himself further.

"Go Ar-thur! Leave- me!" Came the words, forced out between strangled yells of agony.

He was torn.  
He knew leaving was the logical choice, and he _had_ vaguely promised to do so, but how could he leave Merlin like this?

"Well that's touching. You know I could kill him with a word, don't you? Either of you, really."  
Jazar's now-familiar cruel grin stretched across his face, yellowed teeth gleaming in the early morning sun.  
"It would be a shame to ruin such top-notch inventory, but it would also be rather satisfying in its own way. I'm open to whichever option you like best, honestly."

Arthur slumped slightly in defeat, arms still restraining Merlin as he continued to convulse.

"Now, was that so hard?"  
The slave master asked before pointing a finger at the suffering manservant.  
"**cyspan**" the struggles ceased immediately and Arthur's heart nearly skipped a beat.

"What did you do?" He hoped his voice sounded more intimidating than desperate.

"Oh stop being such a worrywart. I merely made his binding a bit more strict. Clearly I was too lenient before. But really, two escape attempts in one night? I am fairly impressed."

The prince heard Merlin mutter something into the ground before Jazar's leather armor abruptly burst into flame.

Despite the dire nature of their plight Arthur found himself chuckling as one of Jazar's minions (newly recovered from his tryst with the grass) leapt forward to pat at the flames ineffectually, eventually managing to put them out with the contents of his water skin.

Now infuriated, their captor turned back to the two, still smoking slightly.  
He motioned to the newly water-less man beside him.  
"Shoot the sorcerer" he said dispassionately.

"No!" Arthur shouted, placing himself in front of his friend only to be kicked aside by the man who wielded a crossbow as if deciding which target to aim for on a practice range.  
He gave a shrug and pulled the trigger, sending the bolt into the servant's right side directly below his ribs.

Jazar reveled in the torment he had caused, drinking in the tortured yell and breathless whimpers that followed before incanting a more powerful version of his earlier command, propelling the warlock into unconsciousness with the words "**betera cyspan!**"

* * *

Hunith looked at the boys in front of her, currently huddled over mugs of tea and bowls of hastily prepared porridge.  
They had told their tales in hushed tones in between mouthfuls, most of them having been captured within the past week- collected by loathsome individuals to be sold like livestock.

She shivered. Slavery was illegal in Camelot, but in Cenred's kingdom it was all too common.  
Still, many of these people had been captured across the border- surely this time King Uther would see fit to intervene.

She wanted to ask how they had escaped, but they seemed hesitant to speak of anything that had happened past their capture and she didn't want to force them.

Pushing these thoughts aside for the moment, Hunith turned to the redheaded boy who seemed to be their leader, his green eyes coming up to meet her blue.  
"I'm sorry for the wait- Ealdor doesn't have its own blacksmith but we should be able to get those shackles off in a few hours."

Jon shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to go. Besides, I'd wait anyway- there are two more coming. Should be here any time."  
He said the words casually, but the mother in her could easily see the anxiety in his eyes.

"Two more captives? Did you get separated?"

"Yeah, Merlin-" the former slave was staring into his porridge and missed the way Hunith stiffened in her seat "he was the one who got us all out- wanted to free his friend from the other cage. He probably had to carry him since he was enchanted."

One of the larger boys in the group spoke up then.  
"He woke _us_ up all right, but his friend was still sleeping when he sent us off."  
He must have noticed the woman's wooden expression for his next question was asked gently.  
"Do you know him? He _did_ send us here. Tall fellow, pale, dark hair."

Her assumptions confirmed, Hunith looked at them all with mingled worry and pride in her eyes.  
"He's my son."


	7. A Little Lesson

A/N: I'm thinking of starting another story following Hunith and 'the home front' if you will (just to give them a bit more attention without taking too much time away from the main action).  
I'm already mentally mired in the sequel trap, why not go the spin-off route as well?  
Almost from the beginning I had another one planned for later in the story – though it's probably more accurate to call them 'companion pieces'.  
Oh- and a oneshot showing Arthur's thought process during Merlin's various accusations leading up to the reveal.

So much planning, so little doing...  
But I will endeavor to do better for all of you great readers – especially my cherished reviewers :)

Also, a plea for help – I'm looking for a short Merlin fic (one or two chapters, I think) wherein Arthur knows about Merlin's magic and puts iron cuffs on him to contain it. He then has to save Camelot without magic and is injured. I thought for sure I had reviewed it but can't find it in my review history or otherwise. Does anyone recognize it? Many thanks to anyone who can tell me the name.  
**Update: The oneshot is called "Give or Take a Destiny"- Praise be to readernurse for her knowledge in this matter

* * *

Arthur grunted as he was tossed roughly back into the cage, bound hand and foot.  
Merlin followed shortly after, similarly tied, still deeply unconscious with the crossbow bolt sticking out of him.

The prince scrambled toward him, frantic to stop the blood that was sluggishly leaking from the wound.  
Since his hands were tied behind his back he had to settle for a knee instead, hoping he wasn't causing further injury.

"Merlin! You have to wake up, I can't- You need to heal yourself!"  
He wanted to scream his grief and frustration to the sky when he received no response, not even a flicker of expression on the warlock's slack face.

During his frenzy Jazar had been replacing the enchantments on the cage and was now laughing at the blond's vain attempts at rousing his friend.  
"No sense worrying your pretty little head over 'im. He won't wake for a while yet- maybe not at all, depending on how fast he bleeds!"

Arthur was at the door in an instant, the rope binding him not nearly enough to withstand his rage.  
Growling, he punched Jazar viciously in the face, bloodying his knuckles on a tooth he managed to dislodge.

The slave master reeled back but recovered quickly, grabbing the royal and pulling him forward to smash into the bars.  
"You best control your temper _boy_. Your little sorcerer can heal himself when he wakes up- if he has enough magic- but there will be no such luck for you."  
The tanned form turned to leave.

"What do you mean?" The prince asked, voice cold and eyes narrowing despite the curiosity that prompted the question.

Jazar looked back at him, blinking almost comically.  
A moment passed and he then seemed to return to his earlier good humor, smiling hospitably.

Arthur recoiled slightly.  
_This man is mad_.  
The realization did little to soothe his nerves.

"Normally I would just ignore you at this point, but I must admit to a certain perverse pleasure in teaching a Pendragon about magic."  
His smile was almost friendly. _Almost._

Arthur backed away, returning to Merlin's side not only out of concern over his wound.

Not seeming to notice the repulsion he was inspiring, Jazar launched into a lecture.  
"You see, magic is all around us- in the trees, flowers, rocks, streams, the very _air._ It flows through everything both living and non-living... though most completely fail to notice."

He was clearly warming up to his subject, making broad gestures and falling into a tone more appropriate for a storyteller.  
"What sets sorcerers apart is not just a sense of magic- _'normal'_ folk have that on occasion- but a sort of internal reservoir that allows us to store it. After that there is simply the knowledge and skill to use it- though that is no small thing. Once one's magic is spent they need only save up more- a bit like collecting rainwater."

The man adjusted his leather chest-piece, seeming to snap out of his mood.  
He continued gruffly "the new binding on your friend prevents any magic from entering or leaving his body- aside from any magic associated with the collar. Therefor he can still use whatever stores he may have, but only on himself. It will probably be difficult for someone as powerful as he seems to be, but obviously he is not to be trusted with more lenient restrictions."

And with that he spun on his heel and marched off, leaving Arthur to mull over these words as he watched his best friend's lifeblood pump out onto the cold floor of their prison.

* * *

"I'm going back for them." Jon said, his voice firm.  
It had been over an hour with no sign of Merlin and he refused to wait any longer.

The villager sent to fetch the blacksmith had encountered the man on the road and the former slave's shackles had been struck from his arms, crisp linen bandages now encircling the damaged wrists.

The other escapees were silent and looked uncertain, unwilling to risk a repeat of their captivity, but Hunith nodded.  
"I'll go with you."

"No" Jon protested "Merlin would never forgive me for endangering his mother."  
He didn't actually know Merlin all that well, but felt it was a fairly safe bet he wouldn't want his mother traipsing about the woods in search of dangerous slave traders.  
"You should wait here, have things prepared for when we get back."

"I guess it's a good thing _you're_ not endangering me then- this is _my _choice."  
She grasped his hand lightly.  
"Besides," a sad smile, "he'll already be upset with you for coming back yourself."

Rising to her feet, she tucked a bit of her skirt into her belt and tightened her kerchief.  
"Now, we better get going. I know these woods like the back of my hand but we've no hope of helping once they've returned to their base."

Jon also stood, turning to his fellows.  
"I wish you all good fortune" he smiled "and try not to get caught again."

Hunith also gave them all a motherly smile "you're free to remain here as long as you like to recover. Help yourself to anything in my home and please feel welcome to join my son and I for dinner tonight."

And with that the two of them set off into the forest, those left behind casting guilty glances at one another.


	8. Going Nowhere

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this, I had family visiting and things were a bit busy.  
I've also been having a rough couple of weeks at work and am feeling a bit down- please complain if this has negatively impacted the quality of my writing (alternatively, if it has somehow helped- praise me).  
Additional apologies that it is a shorty- the next should be up tomorrow.

Also, I'm going to start up the first companion piece this week and try to post it alongside or soon after the main chapters – don't worry, I won't let it delay the writing of _Bound Together._ It'll just be something to work on when I'm stuck or otherwise don't feel like following the main story for a while.

Historical note: in past times brooches were called 'fibulae' (singular, fibula) and were typically used as a clothing fastener. They both functioned as and resembled giant safety pins, though they were often highly decorative items as well. Thus ends today's lesson_.  
(Now please imagine word art reading 'the more you know' zooming out of nowhere- I did)_

* * *

"_Emrys"_

A soft male voice whispered through his mind as his awareness floated above the sea of pain.

"_**Emrys**"_

He attempted to focus on the increasingly insistent presence- which is rather difficult when one is desperately avoiding consciousness.

"_?"_  
He sent out a wordless question, not quite up to forming sentences.

"_Emrys, I have news of great import. An ancient and powerful relic has been stolen- the Fibula of N__ytnes."_

The mystery voice took the lack of answer as lack of recognition (and rightly so).

"_The __Fibula of N__ytnes is a powerful magical item, my small clan has guarded it for many generations and even we do not know many of its secrets. It has the ability to recast any spell using only a person or object that was present during the initial casting, completely ignoring any need for special conditions such as time, place, or reagents. Perhaps even more importantly, it absorbs the magical essence of its owner when they die."_

A pause, presumably to let the implications sink in rather than mere dramatic effect.

"_The Fibula has served as a badge of office for many court sorcerers and other powerful magic-workers throughout the ages. It holds untold energy that could be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands."_

Frankly, this was all a bit much for Merlin in his current state and he found it a bit difficult to be properly impressed.

"_There is no time so I will make this short. The Fibula will be used as part of the prize for this year's Key and Sword Tournament. I understand that you are already on your way there, though not under the best circumstances. I am sorry to ask this of you, Emrys, especially when I cannot help; but the Fibula must be retrieved. You need to win the tournament and claim the prize yourself."_

Merlin wanted to object to that, but was too distracted by a sudden wave of pain.

"_Now, wake Emrys! You must **WAKE!**"_

* * *

Arthur stared at the blood seeping through the already crimson cloth that had been a neckerchief in a previous life.  
_Pull yourself together, Arthur. You've dealt with injured men before._

Well, usually he delegated their care, and this was _Merlin_, but he could do this, right?

_Should I pull the bolt out?_

The prince shook his head.  
There was _no_ way he was doing that- nothing good could come of it when he had no idea what to do afterward.

His thoughts were circling like a litter of kittens chasing each other's tails when a pained groan brought them to a screeching halt.

"Merlin?"

The response was a string of muttered imprecations about druids, mind-speech, and pointlessly powerful relics.

He was about to interrupt when Merlin's eyes shot wide open.

"Arthur?" The voice had an edge of panic to it.

"I'm here."

"Arthur, I can't move."


	9. Similes

A/N: It was so tempting to call the thing 'the brooch of macguffin' or somesuch. _Much_ later it becomes more of a Deus ex Machina sort of deal though. Thus we have 'the brooch of convenience' (sort of... more the like 'the brooch of benefit', but eh).

Many thanks to those who reviewed and/or gave encouragement :)  
In your honor I present: a chapter that isn't entirely mortifying in length.

**Yes, I did post this chapter and then take it down for revision. Sorry about any confusion/inconvenience.  
Sometimes all the things in my head don't make it out onto the virtual paper.  
Hopefully this clears things up a bit and isn't too ungainly since I had to shoehorn things in after the fact.

* * *

Merlin looked up, wide-eyed and slightly panicked.  
"Arthur, I can't move."

He had just resolved to remain calm and in control of the situation when the idiot just had to go and ruin it.

Arthur stared at his servant.  
_Okay, you can handle this. What am I supposed to do in this situation?_

His thoughts floundered for a moment longer before he settled on trying to diffuse the situation with humor.  
"And yet somehow your mouth is as free as ever."  
He tried to grin, but his words sounded strained even to his own ears.

Merlin gave him a disapproving look but seemed to decide ignoring the remark was the best course.  
"Okay, let's leave that aside for now. I need you to tell me how my wound is doing- is it still bleeding? Does it look infected?"

The prince gingerly removed the bloody neckerchief and widened the hole in the injured man's shirt.  
The sight made him wince.  
Thick, dark red blood was slowly bubbling out of the wound along with whitish pus.

"I'll take that as a yes to both."  
His voice, almost normal when he first woke up was now weak and barely audible.

Arthur frowned as the warlock's eyes closed.  
"You need to stay awake."

Receiving only a low hum in response, the royal reached forward and patted his friend lightly on the cheek.  
"Come on Merlin, after having survived a dragon and an immortal army it would be rather embarrassing to die like this."

He had much less trouble remaining detached when it was a knight potentially dying in his arms- why did Merlin always have to make things difficult?  
He shook his head as if that would fling the worry away.  
Panicking would help no one. Merlin needed him to be strong.

"I'm- ow! I'm awake, the sun's just aggravating my headache. I don't know why people always feel the need to yell when they're already inside my head."

The last bit was mumbled and Arthur hardly understood anyway so he returned to his previous focus.  
"Can you heal yourself? Jazar" he spit the man's name out like a curse "said you'd be able to do it if you had enough magic left."

Merlin let out a short laugh that was completely devoid of mirth.  
"Shows what he knows- I'm rubbish at healing."

"But you healed me earlier..."

The warlock avoided his gaze.  
"You could say burns hold a... _special interest_ for me."

Arthur blinked at him. Oh. _Oh._  
Now he was the one looking away.

"Ah." He said, clearing his throat.

The silence only lasted a short time before Merlin, as usual, felt the need to break it.

"I can probably stop the bleeding and take care of the infection. Give me a moment."  
His lids slipped closed again as he began muttering to himself, accompanied by the occasional golden light shining through.  
He could feel a bit more strength filling his body, though movement still seemed to be beyond him.  
"That's better." He sighed at the slight relief from the pain.

His head now cleared of the cobwebs, an earlier turn of phrase caught him as odd.

"Wait" blue eyes swiveled to face the prince, now quizzical "what did you mean?"  
He asked, unaware that he was echoing Arthur's initial reaction to Jazar's proclamation.

"What did I mean about what?"

"When you said 'if I have enough magic left'."

"Right." The blond briefly described to him the way the collar was cutting off the flow of magic to and from his body, also sharing Jazar's description of how sorcerers collected and stored magic.

Merlin listened with fascination.  
"Huh. Well that's interesting."

Arthur looked at him askance.  
"You didn't know that? Merlin, please tell me you aren't as poor a sorcerer as you are a servant."

The young man snorted.  
"First, I am an excellent servant- _certainly_ the best for _you."_

Arthur rolled his eyes but silently agreed with that assessment.

"Second, I am not a sorcerer."

The prince stared at him.  
"Did you injure your head as well?"

"You misunderstand. I am not a sorcerer, I'm a warlock."

"And this means what exactly?"  
_Was Merlin _trying _to make him feel foolish?_

"I was born with magic, Arthur. I don't just _have_ magic, I _am _magic."

Merlin could see his master wasn't quite getting the point so he went with a different tactic.

"Let me put it this way: whereas a sorcerer is like a bucket catching water from a very slow well, a warlock is more like a spring. Water flows below the surface, practically limitless, and bubbles up above ground to be used. No matter how much magic I spend, I have never run out and I'm not sure that I can- I certainly don't want to find out what would happen if I ever did."

Arthur didn't know what to think of this new knowledge, but he did know that he was getting tired of all these water metaphors.

"Well, if your magic supply isn't a concern shouldn't you at least _try_ to heal yourself? Whatever you did earlier seems to have helped, but you still have an arrow sticking out of you." He asked, shrugging off his impending sense of renewed awe.

"Ah. Yes. Truth is, I don't actually know any spells designed for self-healing."

The prince pinched the bridge of his nose. _Only Merlin_.  
The awe was quickly overtaken by exasperation.

"Still, you should try."

"Right. First I'll need you to push the bolt through."

"What? Merlin, I could be poking holes in your organs!"

"Oh it's too late for that. I think he hit my liver, maybe a kidney. Anatomy never was my strong suit- despite Gaius' best efforts."  
His light tone belied the seriousness of his statements.  
"Anyway, it's almost completely through now so it's better to just go all the way. I rather doubt they were considerate enough to use hunting bolts rather than barbed ones."

"Fine. But you better not faint again like a girl."  
It almost hurt to make that joke when he was genuinely worried.  
What would he do if he actually _did_ pass out again?

Merlin gave him a wan smile. "No promises."

Arthur nodded. "Here, bite down on this. As much as I'd appreciate a bit more silence I don't want it to be because you've bitten your own tongue off."  
He reached forward and placed a section of rope between his servant's teeth.

Merlin glared balefully at the taste and feel of the former bindings and Arthur shrugged in response.  
"It's all I have."

The pale man was already partially on his side due to his still-bound arms, but Arthur shifted him further to make sure the arrow had enough clearance to come out, eliciting a groan from the manservant.

"Ready?"

Merlin grunted, screwing his eyes shut and grimacing in anticipation.

Wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible, Arthur pushed on the bolt with as much force as he dared.  
He felt a slight resistance before the head burst forth with a sickening wet 'pop'.

Merlin had been screaming, but subsided to a whimper as the bolt appeared out his opposite side.  
It was too short to break off the head and pull back out so he drew the entire shaft through carefully as the warlock panted desperately.

The cruelly barbed head was incredibly sharp and Arthur used it to make short work of Merlin's bindings, the now-free limbs sagged slightly but otherwise remained motionless.

Blood poured freely from the new wound and the old, washing away the pus and some shirt fibers that had entered with the projectile.

"Put- put my hands over the first hole" Merlin forced out between pained gasps, having spit out the rope.

Arthur grasped his friend's hand only to hear him shout once more.  
Of course- how had they forgotten the burns?  
The bloody streaks were still visible on the hated collar from where Merlin had clawed at it with his damaged digits.

"Right. Hands first then."  
Arthur had had to lean forward to hear him and so got a close view as Merlin's eyes filled with gold.

"**Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare**" he whispered, the burns lessening until unbroken skin remained- though it was still an angry red.

The prince's brow furrowed at the less-than-perfect result.

"It's amazing it worked at all. Now, my hands please."

Arthur sighed and reached forward again, taking the pale hands and gently placing them over the hole in the man's chest.  
He found that the limbs were entirely limp and was obliged to hold them in place as Merlin took a deep breath before intoning "**Ic hæle þina þrowunga**".

The blond waited a moment before announcing "nothing happened."

A slight chuckle.  
"Well, that's the more normal result. Here we go again. **Ic hæle þina þrowunga.**"

Arthur watched as the wound scabbed over, then gasped when he noticed gold sparks dancing along his bloodied hands.

"What? Is it working?" Merlin asked, unable to see what was going on.

"Look" Arthur said, holding his glowing hand in front of the warlock's face.

"Well that's new."

The sparks danced around the prince's left hand still holding Merlin's hands in place, then dissipated. The right hand, meanwhile, was a veritable colony of sparks that gathered around the knuckles Arthur had injured when punching Jazar earlier.

He felt a tingling warmth settle into his hand which then washed over his entire body, leaving him feeling refreshed.

"Merlin, you just healed me."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"But that's supposed to be impossible- the collar, remember?"

The warlock considered this for a moment.  
"I think-" he hesitated, then continued with renewed strength in his voice "I think it's because of my blood."

Arthur looked at him oddly.

"No, you see, you had your hands on my wound where blood was coming _out of my body._ My blood seems to have formed a- a bridge or something that allowed the magic to pass from me to you."

This was all over Arthur's head.  
"As much as it pains me to admit, I will have to trust to your greater knowledge in this area _Mer_lin."

"Well it's about time you acknowledge that."  
His gaze gained a faraway quality of a sudden.

"What is it?" The prince asked.

"Just the beginnings of an idea. Remember how I told you I _am_ magic? Perhaps I can take advantage of that in this circumstance."

"I sincerely hope you're not suggesting that you bleed all over our enemies. That's a bit counterproductive, don't you think?"

"Of course not, dollop head."  
Merlin's thoughts were clearly still off in the distance, but the inclusion of one of his ridiculous insults set Arthur's heart at ease a bit.

"How do you feel?" He let some of the concern show in his voice.

"The prat's worried? I must be dying!" Merlin exclaimed in mock horror.

Arthur put on his princely air "Piffle, the hole in your back is practically gone now- not even worth mentioning."

"And the front?"

"It scabbed over, probably best to stay still so you don't reopen it."  
Merlin gave him a look rife with meaning.  
"Right. That."

The royal heaved a put-upon sigh.  
"Well I suppose we'll have to fix that somehow. After all, I'm expecting you to start pulling your own weight and get us out of here as soon as possible."

At that Merlin looked apologetic.  
"About that... well... I can't leave."


	10. Exposition

A/N: I may have lied about the companion piece featuring Hunith, Jon, and the Camelot gang.  
Maybe I'll still start it this week, but every time I sit down to write it I just lose all motivation. Meh.

Reviewers: Just for you I tried my hardest and ended this chapter _without_ a cliffhanger.  
I hope you appreciate this nearly painful effort on my part ;)

Now for the anticlimactic resolution for last chapter's semi-cliffhanger.

* * *

"I can't leave, Arthur."

"I heard you the first time."

"Well you were just sitting there looking like someone had smacked you with a fish so I thought perhaps you hadn't."

The prince gave him a disgruntled look.  
"Care to explain your sudden attachment to this cage?"

"Well, I suppose technically we could still escape. You'd either have to escape alone or carry me, of course, and I'd be mostly useless until we found some way to get this collar off. Also, they just happen to be taking us somewhere I have to be so-"

"What do you mean? How do you even know where they're going?"

"Ah, another captive told me about it before the first escape."

The royal waited expectantly but no more information was forthcoming so he asked.  
"Care to share?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Have you heard of the Key and Sword Tournament?"

Arthur's gaze took on a thoughtful cast.  
"That's the one that happens in Cenred's land every five years, correct? I have heard that it attracts skilled warriors from across the five kingdoms. I once asked my father if I could participate but he outright refused. He was very firm on the matter."

"I imagine he would be. Magic is legal there, you know. It may not only be swords you'd have to face."

Blond eyebrows rose.  
"Interesting. So, why is this tournament relevant?"

"It seems we're to serve as entertainment for those with too much gold in their purses."  
He gave a brief explanation of the Gauntlet and the practice of capturing and selling people to compete.

"That explains why Jazar is going there, but why are _we_?"

"Ah."  
He took a moment to appreciate that 'I' had automatically become 'we'.  
"While I was... sleeping... someone contacted me. It seems that a powerful magic item has been stolen and will be awarded to the victor of the Gauntlet. I need to win and keep anyone else from acquiring it."

"How do you know you can trust this person?"

"I don't think it's possible to lie to someone when your minds are linked like that."  
Merlin looked uncertain, but had answered confidently enough to satisfy the prince.  
(And frankly the idea of having someone else in his head was something he _did not_ want to contemplate, let alone being inside _Merlin's _head.)

"Why does it have to be you who retrieves it?" Arthur was honestly curious.

"I dunno, probably has to do with my destiny as the most powerful warlock to ever live or something of that sort."  
Merlin was still rather uncomfortable with that idea, but it was worth announcing it just to make Arthur equally uncomfortable.

"Now you're just making things up." He responded, clearly not believing a word of it.

"Whatever helps you maintain your dignity, Sire."  
The servant answered with a grin.

Arthur stood and began pacing the length of the cage.  
"It's hardly fair, taunting me while you're lying there helpless- well, more helpless than usual."  
Should he stop making that particular sort of jibe now that he knew the truth?  
_Nah_.

"I'm not especially pleased about it myself."

The prince stopped by Merlin's head and stared down at him, worry and annoyance warring for dominance.  
"Just because I'm taller than you doesn't mean you have to loom over me while you have the chance."

"Now you're doing it on purpose."

"Doing what, My Lord?"

Arthur considered kicking him then; invalid or not he was still a cheeky git.  
Instead he sighed, rubbing his face with both hands.

"Alright. I think we can safely assume this has something to do with the new binding he put on you. Does it hurt?"  
He asked, settling back down on the cold metal floor.

"Not exactly... it's more... it's like I can't breathe, but it's not air I'm missing. I can't seem to gather any strength either."

The prince's eyes betrayed his alarm.  
"So what, you're suffocating for lack of magic?"

"No. I've got more magic than Camelot has clueless guards."  
Arthur frowned at this comparison.

"You know they're not exactly the best or the brightest. I sneak past them at least once a week."  
Eyebrows raised once again, the prince silently conceded the point. Sneaking _was not_ Merlin's strong point.  
Amusing clumsiness, maybe, but not stealth.  
Though perhaps that wasn't as true as he had thought?  
Merlin continued.

"My magic may just be accustomed to... I'm not sure how to explain it- flowing? I think my body likes to mix the magic it makes with some from outside sources. It's really restless right now, like it's just swirling around inside me trying to get out."

"So you're paralyzed and your magic is making a giant whirlpool because it has cabin fever."  
Great, now _he _was making water metaphors.

"Basically. I should be able to move again once everything settles down. Hopefully."

"Let me get this straight- we've been captured by slavers and are about to be sold to persons unknown to fight in an unusually deadly competition, we have no weapons, you can't even _move_ let alone properly use magic, and you're trusting to good luck?"

"Well it's got to get better eventually, right?"  
He tried for a winning smile, but it came out closer to desperate.

"At this rate we may die first."  
He put his hand over his face, waving his other toward Merlin's side.  
"How's your wound? I know it didn't heal completely."

"Good enough to keep my insides from becoming outsides. Now am I going to be able to convince you to escape alone or should I just save the effort?"

Arthur looked at him incredulously.  
"You really are an idiot."  
His voice was too fond to have any sting.

"That's what I thought. You always were a stubborn prat."

Said prat puffed himself up a bit.  
"And how would you win without me? Who could you possibly partner with who would be better?"

"No one."  
Merlin responded with a sincerity and warmth that surprised Arthur- who had been expecting a witty retort- into silence.  
"I've dreamed of the day when I could fight openly by your side."

The emotion and faith in the familiar voice was such that Arthur found himself feeling a bit choked up so he simply grasped Merlin's shoulder, giving a single nod and meeting his friend's eyes with his own.

There were tears in both pairs of blue orbs, but neither felt the need to mention it.


	11. Disappointment

A/N: Hurricane! Woooo!  
I hurried this chapter along (and yes, I know it's obscenely short) since extended power outages are expected.  
Thankfully I have a gas stove, though I'm not too keen on lighting it with a match.  
Excitement!

* * *

They were moving again, the men surrounding them on all sides ignored them for the most part.  
Jazar rode next to the cage, in a good mood for the time being.

"I see you've got yourself patched up. Good, good. We haven't caught any more offerings today so you two will have to bring in a pretty penny."  
He took in their bloodied and bedraggled appearance.  
"Looks like you'll be needing a bath. Ha!"

For whatever reason, the slaver found this statement inordinately amusing and continued to laugh loudly for a few minutes before settling down.

"Now, I'm going to explain to you a bit of what's going to happen. It's in your best interest to listen."  
His tone reminded Merlin of a woman in Camelot's marketplace that always tried to talk him into buying jewelry 'for that special someone'.

"See I'll be auctioning you off to a sponsor for whom you'll compete in the tournament. The auction itself is a sort of competition- you'll want to show your best side so you attract the attention of a noble with deep pockets. Your sponsor is the one that makes sure you're fed and housed throughout the duration of the Gauntlet- or lets you rot in a cell with little food or water, either way."  
He seemed positively tickled at the thought.

"You'll have a short amount of time to talk yourself up to the bidders- I'd suggest you not hold back. Fetching a generous backer is really the only thing you can do to prepare, especially since the events are always a secret- well, except the last one. That's always the same, I suspect you might even enjoy it Pendragon! Or did you already know about your... _friend_ here?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Arthur snapped.  
Merlin had a sneaking suspicion, but certainly wasn't going to share it.

Jazar just laughed at him.  
"Oh you'll see- if you live that long!"  
More laughter.

"I think I prefer it when he's in a bad mood" Arthur muttered.  
Merlin silently agreed.

* * *

Jon and Hunith crept through the trees, heading back to where the band of slavers had made camp the previous night.

As the boy had explained to the woman earlier, the rogues typically left their captives in the camp largely unguarded during the first part of the day while they went 'hunting'.  
Provided they followed their typical pattern and Merlin had indeed been caught, the young man should still be where Jon had left him.

The redhead held a finger up to his lips and motioned for Hunith to hang back while he peaked over a cluster of bushes into the small clearing.  
It seemed like ages since he had escaped from this same space rather than hours.

Noticing a distinct lack of slavers and cages he cursed, immediately apologizing to the woman beside him.

Hunith gave him a crooked smile. "I've heard far worse in my day."  
The smile gave way to an expression that was both worried and resolute.  
"What do we do now?"

Jon sighed.  
"Well, they won't be moving very quickly, but the whole band will be surrounding the cage now. They'll be back in their stronghold by nightfall and there's no way we'll be able to get them out of there alone."

The weight of his words kept both of them silent for a moment.

"We'll need to get help."


	12. Oubliette

A/N: I survived!  
The city is still a crazyland since a lot of people don't have power (seriously, the line at Papa John's was spilling out onto the street- I think half of the cars out there were food delivery people) but at least I have power and my internet is back up.  
Praise the Lord sing glory hallelujah!

Though I am moderately disappointed that I didn't get to use my hurricane lamp despite the presence of an actual hurricane (I had power most of the time, it just flickered on and off).  
Guess I'll just have to turn off the lights and pretend ;)  
*Update – I did. It was moderately satisfactory

Anyway, I've said it before and I'll probably say it again- even worse than ending a chapter on a non-cliffhanger is starting the chapter after it. It pains me. (I really don't count last chapter as a cliffhanger at all- I mean, c'mon, no one even lost consciousness!)  
So let's get on with this then.

* * *

It was just beginning to grow dark as the small convoy approached what appeared to be an abandoned fortress, a few lit torches being the only sign of life within.

Maintenance was clearly not a priority judging by the ramshackle look of the place.  
Bits of stone lay at the base of the walls they'd come from and the surrounding forest was beginning to reclaim the area for itself, vines and branches clawing at the stone edifice.

"Look lively, fellows!" Jazar laughed raucously and banged the hilt of his sword against the cage bars.

Merlin and Arthur glared at him- though the former was technically glaring at the ceiling.

"Now that I have your attention- **Onslæp nu****!**"

The pair slipped into slumber too quickly to appreciate the little jig the madman performed as he made his way to the cage door, grinning in anticipation of his coming wealth.

* * *

_That was entirely unnecessary_.  
Arthur's further thoughts upon waking were not complementary and as such were thoroughly unprintable.

He couldn't have been asleep long, but was already stiff and sore- likely due to the intense cold of his new location.  
The prince sat up while trying to rub some warmth into his limbs, feeling the bumpiness of his flesh and trembling despite himself.

If _he_ was feeling the cold so sharply, how must _Merlin_ feel? The man had hardly any meat on him-

"Merlin!"  
Arthur called sharply, looking about himself properly.

It was dark but he seemed to be in a pit cell with a moist earthen floor and dripping stone walls. The only exit (and light source) was at least 12 feet above him, a round grate that looked just wide enough for one person to pass through if they either raised their arms or hugged themselves.

_Lovely_. He thought, still scanning the small space for his companion.

There. Merlin was only a couple feet from him, but lay just outside the circle of light that had blinded Arthur to the servant's presence.

"Merlin."  
His voice was more calm this time as he reached out to shake the man's shoulder.  
"Hey, idiot, wake up. You'll freeze to death."

It was only as he said this that he realized just how real the possibility was- Merlin was deathly cold to the touch but Arthur could detect no signs of shivering or gooseflesh where he gripped the thin shoulder.

Arthur continued yelling at him as he dragged the pale figure into the light, noticing as he did the slightly blue cast of his servant's lips.

Switching his focus to warming his friend, the prince struggled to calm his anxiety.  
"So help me Merlin, you'll be the death of me yet."  
He muttered, gently pulling the manservant into an embrace and briskly rubbing his arms and back while trying to avoid aggravating his wound.  
"And you're the one always going on about how often you save my life. I think I've made up for it fairly well, as I'm sure you'll agree..."

The blond kept on babbling as if feeling the need to make up for Merlin's continued silence, his desperation growing as the minutes passed with no sign of improvement.

"Come on Merlin, come on!"  
He hugged the frigid body to his own relatively warm one, tears pricking his eyes once more.

* * *

He was awash in gold, consciousness overwhelmed by a glimmering tide of magic as it surged and swirled.

"Merlin!"  
Was someone calling him?  
Was that even his name?

"Merlin."  
Yes, that felt right. Merlin was his name.  
"Hey, idiot, wake up. You'll freeze to death."

Freeze? Maybe the voice wasn't talking to him anymore.  
He certainly had no cause to worry about freezing while he was drowning in magic.

Now ignoring whatever the voice was shouting about, Merlin turned his attention to his predicament.  
What to do with a raging storm of power?

The magic seemed to leap and bubble at this thought and Merlin frowned a bit.  
Perhaps he should go back to thinking of it like water?  
Yes, that was more comfortable.

His thoughts drifted away for a bit, imagining a time in his youth when he had discovered a small lake and spent untold time floating in it as he watched the clouds go by.  
He smiled, thinking of the way his mother (who could not swim) had panicked when she found him there- thinking he had drowned.  
She had yelled at him all the way home, but spent all night holding him and telling him how much she loved her precious little boy.

Coming back to the present he noticed that the magic was more calm now, seeming to mirror his memory of the placid lake near Ealdor.

This didn't quite seem right, either. Magic should _flow._  
Had he said that sometime recently?  
It seemed a familiar sentiment.  
He concentrated and the day's events came back to him in a rush.

This is it!  
Surely this is the key to regaining his mobility!

Merlin focused, imagining his magic flowing throughout his body alongside his blood; running from the very core of his being to his extremities and back in an endless loop.

A feeling of cold began to nag at his awareness and he pushed at his magic, willing the sensation away as he concentrated on the aureate stream.

No longer adrift in the raging sea of gold Merlin began to truly appreciate the beauty of his magic as he directed it to invigorate his limbs.  
He felt a calming warmth settle over him as he surveyed his effervescent surroundings.

_If only everyone could see it this way- surely even Uther wouldn't call this evil._

* * *

Merlin was glowing.

Arthur wasn't entirely sure if he should be worried or not, but settled for general concern at the situation.

It was then that he noticed _he_ was the one being warmed.

"Well Merlin, I hope that was the desired effect." He drawled, relaxing his hold only slightly while trying to ascertain if the young man was becoming _too_ hot.  
"Feel like waking up now, or are you enjoying your little lie-in too much?"

It was nice to fall back into his bantering tone, it made it so much easier to pretend he had_ not_ just been near to tears over his manservant- _again._

Still receiving no response other than gentle breathing, Arthur slapped Merlin's face- perhaps a bit harder than was strictly necessary.  
The prince considered it small recompense for being turned into an emotional wreck like some kind of... _girl_.

He shuddered at the thought, noticing that Merlin was beginning to wake, but not fast enough- so he slapped him again.

"Ow! What was that for you prat?" His dark-haired friend yelled, then gasped in pain as he clutched at his torso and took shallow breaths.

"Merlin! What is it? Are you okay?" Asked the prince, hoping he had not worsened the wound with his earlier ministrations.

"It seems paralysis had its benefits." Merlin ground out between clenched teeth as he inspected the puncture which had torn open only slightly, a trickle of blood escaping.  
"It also appears my spell didn't work as well as I thought it had."


	13. Jaundice

A/N: This week's _Merlin_ made me a sad panda.

* * *

Merlin looked around his new prison for something- _anything_ to distract from the suddenly increased pain in his chest.  
Let's see, dirt, rock, a grate, a chamber pot...

Actually that last was oddly generous and Merlin found himself in need of it.

Arthur, having the use of his legs, had simply relieved himself out the side of the cage (and if the liquid nearly hit one of his captors, who would blame him?) while Merlin had lain helpless on the floor.

The prince had looked uncomfortably in his general direction (studiously avoiding _actually_ looking at him) after he finished his own business but Merlin had stated a flat 'no'- much to Arthur's obvious relief.

Taking a few deep breaths and relaxing his tensed abdominal muscles served to lessen the pain enough for him to think about moving.  
Still, a pain relieving enchantment wouldn't be amiss.

"**líhtan inwærc"**  
He sighed as the whispered spell took effect.

"Merlin?"  
He turned to his master.

"I'm okay. Just- could you help me up?"

The prince looked as if he considered that a bad idea but helped nonetheless.

"Excuse me a moment."  
Merlin said, stumbling over to the chamber pot and fumbling with his trousers.  
Arthur averted his eyes, finding something very interesting to stare at on the opposite wall.

While his bladder was glad to be unburdened, the dark stream of urine confirmed Merlin's suspicions.

Even though the physician's apprentice wasn't _entirely_ confident about where the liver was, he did know a great deal else about it as Gaius had lectured him on its importance more than once.  
He could just imagine his mentor expounding on its integral part in nearly all of the body's functions including the filtration of toxic substances, storing of nutrients, warming of the body, and various other tasks.  
It seemed the bolt _had_ pierced said vital organ- which was now impaired.

Though the softly glowing warlock had yet to realize just how frigid his current prison was, the cold had worsened his condition and an injured liver made fighting off hypothermia especially difficult (a vicious cycle indeed).

The warlock secured his trousers and steadied himself against the wall for a moment.  
_Okay. It'll be fine. I've done this before so everything will be alright._

A few months before a midwife had brought a yellow-skinned newborn child to Gaius.  
The elder had lain the child out in the sun as was the standard treatment, but the child had failed to improve so Merlin had found a spell in his book to repair the tiny damaged liver.  
The same spell should serve him well now.

"lifer-"  
He swayed as his fatigue caught up to him and sat abruptly on the dirt floor.

"Merlin?"  
Arthur was at Merlin's side before he had even properly registered his new position on the ground.  
"What's happening?"

"Tired" the young man replied, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it.

The blond frowned at this. "You should rest, maybe dismiss that spell you're holding."

"Spell?"  
_Oh, right._  
He'd forgotten about the heating spell he'd subconsciously cast.  
"No, it's too cold."

Arthur, whose eyes had adjusted to the darker part of the cell, was staring at his servant's face.  
"Merlin, your eyes are yellow."

Taking a few steadying breaths, the would-be healer placed shaky hands over his wound.  
"I can fix this- just need to get the spell right. I've done it before so it should turn out okay."

Arthur's look was skeptical and a bit worried but he didn't say anything.

"**liferséocnes** **áblinnan****" **he intoned, feeling the spell working as his eyes flashed.

_Now for the real test._  
He braced himself as he dismissed his pain relieving spell.

There was a slight twinge that subsided to a dull ache, which was to be expected since only the liver itself had been fixed, but he was grateful all the same.

"Much better. Now I think I'll pass out for a while."  
And so he did.

* * *

Arthur sighed.  
He was glad that Merlin was more-or-less healthy again, but could the man be any more infuriating about it?

The radiant form had collapsed directly on top of him and the two were now sprawled on the dank floor right next to the freshly-filled chamber pot.

The prince found himself once more carefully shifting his friend, moving him to a less smelly location and propping him up so that his head was resting on the royal's shoulder.

Arthur was only alone with his thoughts for a short time before he too drifted off to sleep, head drooping to rest on top of Merlin's dark locks.


	14. Sixth Sense

A/N: And for those who wondered: yes, suntanning is the prescribed treatment for neonatal jaundice. Of course, many modern hospitals now have machines that do this instead but back in the day when I was born with it my parents just left me out in the yard for a couple hours a day.  
I blame this for my current inability to tan.

So this has been bugging me since watching 5x5 and I'd like to know if anyone else has been thinking about it- Merlin is assuming that Mordred's recovery was Arthur's punishment but how would Arthur have reacted if he compromised his beliefs only to return and find that Mordred had died? He thought he was making a deal, allowing the Old Religion to return in exchange for Mordred's healing. I can't see it having positive results in the 'return of magic' arena if he had died. Danged writers.

There was going to be some psychological whump in this chapter, but I deemed it a bit much (I know, 'too much whump' may be impossible) and an unnecessary delay of the main event. Besides, now I'll have it stored away for future works.

Dawnfire11: Thanks for the review storm again :)

* * *

Blurry shapes shifted around him as he woke slowly.  
Blinking the sleep from his eyes he became aware of the sounds of violence.  
Screams of pain and shouted spells assaulted his sensitive ears as he surged to his feet.  
He was shouting now too- what he couldn't be sure, though it had caused power to shoot from his outstretched palm to meet the onrush of attackers who fell to the ground stunned.

Looking about himself it was clear that this was a battle they could not win.  
Glancing down he made sure it was still secured to his shirt and took off into the forest, intent on fulfilling the mission of his clan.

He had only been running for a short time before they caught up to him.  
He had cast some spells, but had never been all that strong of a sorcerer and they soon overwhelmed him.  
They dragged him back to the camp, now in ruins, and he gazed brokenly at the bodies of his family and fellow guardians before being shoved to the ground before a hulking mass of a man.

The mercenary leader gave a gap-toothed grin as he looked down at him in triumph, his wild brown hair quivering as a cruel laugh burst from below his unreasonably thick mustache. Caterpillar-like eyebrows drew together and obscured his dark brown irises as the man squinted at him.

"Not much to look at, are ye 'guardian'?" He jeered, laughing once more.  
"No matter, ye'll be nothing soon enough."

The man frowned as the ball of spittle landed on his boot.

"And I thought Druids were a peaceable, respectful sort of folk." He said before kicking the kneeling form in the ribs with his soiled boot.

Desperately trying to regain his breath, he looked up at his tormentor and spoke for the first time.  
"We give respect where it is due."

Another kick left him writhing on the ground.

"Lucky for you I need you dead to claim that trinket else I might draw this out a bit more."  
The brute turned to one of his men.  
"Sit him up."

Strong arms forced him to kneel once more and air started returning to his lungs.

The mercenary drew his sword and positioned it carefully, purposefully intoning "My name is Kapner and I claim the Fibula of Nytnes, having defeated its guardian."

He tried to resist but the ritual response was forcefully pulled from his lips.  
"I, Lochlin, guardian of the Fibula of Nytnes do submit ownership to you Kapner. May you understand this honor and carry out the responsibility it entails."

The eyes of his conqueror glowed gold and he could feel his own do likewise, just as he felt the sword pierce his chest and pain exploding followed by a terrible coldness as darkness encroached.

* * *

Merlin woke abruptly, hands clutching at his chest as the phantom pain began to fade.  
_What. Was. That?_

He had just dreamed of people and events he knew nothing about from the perspective of a stranger and was moderately terrified.  
_Is this what it's like for Morgana?_  
He wondered briefly, feeling a pang of sympathy at the thought.

The warlock was about to shake his head when he felt the pressure on both sides of his skull.  
He turned slightly and was rewarded with blond strands poking his eyes.

Merlin froze.  
He was sleeping on Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur had in turn been resting on him.

Merlin stared at the prince, not sure if he should wake him.  
He was touched, really, but that didn't mean he wouldn't tease him mercilessly about this later.

Meanwhile Arthur, apparently sensing that he was now the object of some attention, had woken up and immediately leapt to his feet in a way that sent Merlin sprawling on the floor once again.  
The royal felt guilty for a moment before seeing the luminous man sit up on his own with only a slight wince.

"No one is to know about this" he said firmly.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sire." Merlin answered with his usual grin- a grin so full of his usual strength and brightness that Arthur found himself forgiving the servant for his lie.

He had only been away from Merlin for a few moments but already he could feel the cold seeping in so he promptly sat back down next to the living fireplace.  
It was definitely only because of the cold and not because he needed any reassurance.  
What a preposterous idea.

"Why is it so blasted cold in here?" he yelled to no one in particular.

Perhaps not realizing the question had been rhetorical, Merlin answered.  
"The room's been enchanted. I think it may have originally been intended for ice storage. Luckily the strength of the magic has faded over time or we probably wouldn't have woken up at all."

Arthur shivered, remembering just how close it had still been for Merlin.

Concerned blue eyes met his. "Are you still cold?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Don't be ridiculous Arthur, what's the point of holding back when you know I can help you?"

"I won't have you bleeding on my account. I'm just fine."

Merlin shook his head.  
"No blood this time. I've been wanting to experiment and this is the perfect opportunity- just wait a moment."

The warlock focused his attention on a particularly long segment of dark fringe.  
"**Hléownes."**  
He pulled the hair free and it flared gold for a moment before settling back to its usual dark shade.

Merlin twisted the strands into a ring and presented it to his prince.  
"Try that."

Arthur looked at him dubiously but slipped the ring onto his thumb, instantly feeling a soothing warmth wash over him.

"Now that is a handy trick. You may never have to tend my fireplace again, Merlin!" The prince clapped his friend on the back.

"I think your father might have his objections to that. I doubt the enchantment will last more than a few days anyway."

If Arthur had known anything about magic he would have been impressed, but as it was he simply pouted a bit in disappointment.

His father was, by all odds, an obstacle to take into account.  
Arthur already knew he wasn't going to hand Merlin over to Uther, but would he be able to properly keep the secret now that he actually knew rather than suspecting?  
How many times had his sheer disbelief been all that convinced Uther that Merlin was innocent of sorcery?

The prince looked over at Merlin who, flush with the success of his experiment, had made another ring for himself and was no longer glowing.  
Of course he could- he had to.

Arthur made a silent vow to look out for Merlin, since the idiot had precious little self-preservation and couldn't lie to (literally) save his life.

Feeling a surge of affection for the twig of a man the blond reached over and pulled him into a headlock, grinding his fist into the dark hair rather lighter than he would have otherwise.

"What was that for!" Merlin exclaimed with a smile that suggested he already knew the answer.

Arthur grinned in return. How did the man always know what he was thinking?  
"That was for being such an idiot, _Mer_lin."

"Oh?" The warlock arched an eyebrow and plucked another hair from his head, eyes flashing briefly.  
"Then _this _is for being such a prat!"

As soon as the dark strand left his pale hand the spell activated, releasing a puff of smoke that left the bewildered prince covered in pink sparkles.

"You are such a _girl_ Merlin."  
Arthur's patronizing tone did nothing to prevent Merlin from rolling on the floor in laughter as the great Champion of Camelot struggled to retain his dignity while removing glittering flecks of color from his face.


	15. Guinea Pig

A/N: Guys, I have a problem. I think I may be addicted to reviews- and it gets worse the more I write.  
For the first time I considered _waiting_ to post a chapter until I had more. Waiting! Usually I can hardly begrudge the time it takes to proofread them!  
I also promised myself I would never _ever _hold chapters for ransom like that (even without stating my intentions first) and I won't- but dang the human need for validation is a frightening thing, isn't it?  
I'm losing my mind here, people- so much so that I almost typed 'loosing my mind'.  
I am ashamed of myself.  
I'm gonna go eat some ice cream now.  
(But Yay! 100 reviews! Thank you!)

* * *

After spending several minutes watching Arthur try to remove the magical dust (succeeding only in spreading it over a larger portion of his body) Merlin eventually acquiesced to the man's piteous expression and helped brush him off, leaving a gleaming heap of pink in the dirt.

Arthur hadn't said a word the whole time.

"Are you sulking?" Merlin said with poorly-concealed amusement.

"Certainly not- princes never sulk" the royal blustered, clearly put-out.

"Of course, Sire. Forgive my insolence." The manservant said mockingly and gave a bow.

A metallic squealing drew their attention upward to the grate where one of Jazar's lackeys had appeared.  
"Come over 'ere and catch your food- and eat quick, we'll be leavin' soon."

The man held out a bucket and dropped it into Arthur's waiting arms, withdrawing and closing the grate as soon as he had let go.

"Well there's some fine service." Merlin remarked.

"Hm." Arthur eyed the bread and cheese with suspicion. "You reckon this is safe to eat?"

Pale hands darted out and snatched at the vittles, their owner taking a bite of both bread and cheese before proclaiming "they're fine".

The prince froze for a moment, remembering a time soon after they had met when the idiot had said something all too similar and then collapsed from poison.

Arthur smacked him upside the head.  
"What's the point of having magic if you don't use it in situations like this?"  
He was angry- definitely not frightened, angry.

Merlin, sensing that he had genuinely upset his master, reached out and grasped the royal's arm.  
"It's okay, Arthur. I've become rather... familiar with all manner of substances. I've been testing Gaius' concoctions for years now."  
He shuddered at the memory of most of them.  
"If there had been anything suspect I would have noticed before I even ate any- I hardly think they're going to poison us at this point regardless."

His confident, placating tone got Arthur to relent a bit, but not completely.  
"Just- don't do things like that, okay? I need a friend, not a food-taster."

The blond didn't even realize what he had just admitted until he noticed Merlin beaming at him, then he hurried to cover it by throwing more food in the thin man's direction.  
"Besides, there could've been a sleeping potion or something in it- didn't have to be deadly."

The idiot was still smiling.  
"You heard the man- eat quickly."

The servant's grin didn't fade as he ate so Arthur turned away to hide his answering smile, determinedly shoveling food into his traitorously upturned mouth.

* * *

They were back in the cage now, having been awkwardly lifted out of their cell, shackled, and hustled through the tumble-down structure.

"Ah, home sweet home." Merlin said sarcastically, having been tossed into this cage for the third time now.

"Yeah, well I don't plan on getting attached." Arthur muttered darkly.

"Come now, Arthur- a few drapes and candles, maybe a nice tapestry and this place could be downright livable."

Arthur frowned at him.  
"Sometimes I wonder if you really _do_ have a mental affliction."

"Yes, it's called wit. Though I suppose the intelligence and optimism may also count."

The prince smacked him upside the head again.

"Ow! You know, for someone so seemingly concerned for my mental state you do little to improve it. If I did have an affliction it would probably be your fault!"

This gave Arthur pause- maybe _that_ was the reason all of his servants were morons...

And once again they were on the move, this time in the dark of night to avoid detection by the border patrols.

"Well, I don't know about you Merlin, but I'm going to get some more rest while I have the chance."  
He continued muttering to himself as he curled up on the metal floor "precious little else to do if we're not even going to bother escaping."

The servant smiled fondly at his master before settling down himself, not feeling tired but finding himself drifting off regardless.

* * *

"_Emrys"_

Again? Could he not just _sleep_ anymore?

Apparently the other felt his annoyance as his tone became conciliatory.  
"_I am sorry, Emrys, but there is more information I need to pass on to you."_

"_As long as you don't speak in riddles- I've had enough of them to last a few lifetimes."_

Merlin felt a bit of surprise coming from the other, not knowing what caused it.

"_Truly you _are_ powerful for me to hear your words Emrys."_

"_But I can hear yours..."_

"_Well, everyone has their specialties."_  
The warlock could sense there was more to it than that, but let it be.

"_Now, listen carefully- there is much to tell and my power is fading."_  
The voice paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate something.  
"_Actually, if you would permit me, Emrys- I believe I can directly transfer this knowledge to you. Honestly I've never done it before since I've not met someone whose psychic gift was as strong as yours and mine own, but it would allow me to pass on my knowledge completely and more quickly."_

Being young, Merlin was swift to agree to the more expedient route.

"_Alright, try to relax and open your mind more fully to me- that's good."_

Merlin 'listened' respectfully as his as-yet-unknown lecturer proceeded to fill his head with the wonders, dangers, and rituals of the Fibula of Nytnes.

* * *

Sunlight caressed his eyelids and he awoke with a groan- it felt as if someone had crammed a morning star into his skull.  
"_Never_ doing that again" he said mournfully.

"What, sleeping on a cage floor? I wouldn't hold out hope for that, considering our past and current conditions."  
Arthur looked over to him with eyebrow raised.

"No... augh... **inwærc áblinnan**."  
He sighed as the pain abated almost completely.  
Nice to know he was getting better at this.

"Is your injury still bothering you?"  
The blond eyebrows were now drawn together in concern.

"Just some druid cramming my brain full of information on this artifact I'm supposed to retrieve. My head hurt worse than it did after going to the tavern with Gwaine."

"So you did go with him! How were you even functioning after that?"  
The warlock was glad he'd healed his headache _before_ being subjected to the royal's shouting.

"Magic" Merlin waggled his eyebrows. "You didn't think he ate four dozen pickled eggs on his own, did you?"

"And you made me pay for that!"

"I thought we'd agreed that polishing the entire army's boots was the payment."

"Well now I'm not sure it was enough."

"Honestly Arthur, don't you think you're being a bit childish about this? It happened more than two weeks ago!"

"I'm sure that will be of great comfort to the people whose tax money went toward your mead and pickled eggs."

"That's a low blow- besides, the mead was all Gwaine. I mostly drank small beer."

Arthur was smirking at him now.  
"You got drunk off of small beer? I knew you were a girl's petticoat Merlin, but that really is embarrassing."

"Gwaine may have slipped me some stronger ale partway through the night..."  
The pale face was now tinged a slight pink.

The smirk became an almost predatory grin.  
"Now this sounds like a story I'd like to hear."

"Well you won't hear it from me."  
Merlin crossed his arms and slumped against the bars, looking out into the surrounding countryside.

"Now who's sulking?"

Arthur's triumphant tone was too much, Merlin turned and stuck out his tongue at him.  
"Prat."

The prince looked at him condescendingly, struggling to hold in his laughter.  
"How childish."


	16. Shackles

A/N: 111 reviews! Many thanks to my beloved enablers.

Alright NaNoWriMo participants- November is half gone, is your novel half done?

I've been thinking about writing a Merlin/Harry Potter crossover (unrelated statement).  
Of course, then I'd _have_ to reread the books, and that might be too much of a trial ^_~  
I don't have any concrete ideas plot wise so it would probably be a good while before I got to it anyway.  
What I _really_ want to do is _read _some great Merlin/HP crossovers but there aren't nearly as many as there should be (especially since I don't like to read slash or romantic pairings in general really) so I've quickly run out.  
*Sigh* The trivial problems of modern life...

And now for a bad pun: the opening sequence of "The Dark Tower" = Snakes on a Plain

* * *

Some time had passed with the two sitting in companionable silence before the trees began to thin and a cluster of large, varicolored tents came into view.

The cage lurched to a stop and Jazar rode ahead to confer with a man behind a booth situated at the entrance to the meadow.  
The man gestured to the tents and Jazar nodded, returning to the convoy.

"Take our little breadwinners behind the purple tent to be prepped. We'll leave the cage in the forest."

The men nodded in acknowledgment as their leader went off on some errand of his own.

One of the braver members of the group unlocked the cage and moved toward the captive pair.  
"Come on then, nice and quiet like- no point in resisting now."

Arthur was tempted to grasp the man and smash his face in out of pure spite, but Merlin shot him a look which clearly said 'no face-smashing'.  
_Curse that man and his bizarre insight!_

Instead he merely huffed and got to his feet, offering Merlin a hand up- despite all the rest he had been getting the idiot looked dead on his feet.

The slaver seemed to gain a bit of confidence at their lack of protest and boldly strode forward with a pair a shackles which he used to fasten Merlin's left leg to Arthur's right.  
The warlock rolled his eyes at the prince as the brigand turned and gestured imperiously for them to follow.

Once they were standing on the grass another slaver came forth holding a length of chain, the hooked end in his extended hand.  
Merlin jerked back as the man reached for his neck with the hook, anticipating a return of the pain he'd felt when Arthur had touched the collar, and two others stepped forward to keep him still.

They needed four to hold Arthur.  
"What do you think you're doing?" He seethed.

Not even sparing him a glance, the man with the chain hooked it to the back of Merlin's collar (the previous reaction being blessedly absent) and Arthur saw the silver metal meld with the iron before the chain was tugged to reverse the collar's orientation.  
The servant hissed in pain and Arthur caught a glimpse of the raw skin underneath, a trickle of blood escaping down his pale back.

Merlin could sense his master's rising ire and hurried to mollify him.  
"I'm okay Arthur, don't do anything rash."

The slavers laughed harshly.  
"Best listen to your friend, there, blondie- we'd hate to have to rough you up!"  
One called mockingly, ruffling the prince's hair.

The aforementioned blond was nearly red in the face but Merlin gazed at him reassuringly until he grudgingly relaxed, kicking lightly at the dirt in annoyance.

"Good. Now let's see to getting you two fixed up, shall we?"

And with that they were unceremoniously hustled across the meadow.

* * *

Merlin had been glad that a good meal and proper healing had been part of their 'preparation', but he still wasn't pleased about being unceremoniously stripped and dumped into a creek by a gaggle of disinterested attendants representing both genders.  
Even Arthur, who had never been loath to show off his muscles, had found the experience rather off-putting (though that may have been more due to the lack of attention from the female onlookers).

Their original clothing had been magically cut off of them and new ones magicked on (wouldn't do to unlock the shackles just for the sake of changing clothes).  
The warlock now stood in an outfit not unlike his usual attire- a simple blue tunic and black trousers.  
The prince wore a similar red tunic with black trousers.  
Merlin was a bit disappointed they hadn't received new boots, considering the state of his buckles, but wasn't surprised.

Having waited impatiently while the two were being bathed the slavers were quick to reclaim the pair and yanked them toward the purple tent, ignoring Merlin's short cry of pain.  
His neck, having been covered by the collar, had not been healed.

Arthur growled but made no move to resist, instead keeping close to Merlin.

Jazar was there waiting for them and soon waved his men away, taking charge of his 'property' and steering them toward an official-looking individual behind a makeshift desk consisting of a board on top of two barrels.

"These two're my only entry this year. Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot and 'is sorcerer- what was your name whelp?"  
Merlin scowled at the elbow jabbed into his side.

"Emrys." He replied.

Arthur looked at him questioningly but wisely remained silent.

The official made a note on a piece of parchment, looking impressed.  
"A prince? Getting rather bold, aren't you Jazar?"

That cruel grin again "I'm sure it'll be worth it."

Arthur's attention wandered as the two continued nattering.  
_This would be the perfect time to escape. _He thought rather bitterly.  
But no, if Merlin needed to do this then he had to help him.  
Besides, that blasted collar was still an issue.  
He sighed just as Jazar seemed to be wrapping up the conversation.

"So how are they doing it this year?"

"It looks like there won't be many entering as a pair this time so they're thinking about doing a candle auction."

It must have hurt Jazar's facial muscles to raise his formidable eyebrows so high.  
"I heard a brawl broke out last time they tried that."

"All the more reason to do it again!" The official said enthusiastically.

Jazar guffawed.  
"Just so! Well, it was nice catching up, but it's about time for the exhibition so I'd better get these two settled."

"Of course, good luck!"

"To me or them?"  
Jazar's boisterous laughter covered any response that may have been made.

Merlin trotted forward and created slack in the chain just as the slave trader jerked it, causing the man to frown in disappointment.

"Now you two remember what I said- in the exhibition you'll only have a short time to tell everyone why they should sponsor you, better put your best stuff out there."

Merlin nodded grimly.  
"Oh don't worry, I'm sure they'll be suitably impressed."

"Glad to see you're so confident." Their captor chuckled as he pulled them toward a platform situated in the middle of the tent.

Arthur was looking at his friend like he had grown a second head.  
_Since when does _Mer_lin use that sort of tone?_  
It wasn't just cockiness, the man was deadly serious.  
A previous conversation floated through his mind.  
_Could he- ? But no, there was no way he actually _is _the most powerful warlock ever... this idiot?_

The prince found it harder to doubt when he once more looked at Merlin's stony expression.


	17. By the Candle

A/N: I feel like bragging about my own cleverness (such as it is) so I'm letting you guys in on a little 'secret'- my chapter titles pretty much always have more than one meaning. And they're often hints about what's to come.  
Sometimes they're really out there, like chapter nine of _Patient Zero_ ('Of Wrath') which was largely a reference to a chapter in Steinbeck's _Grapes of Wrath_ in which a turtle crosses the road- though I confess that I have deeply hated Steinbeck ever since fourth grade (_Red Pony_ anyone?) and the feeling only increased with every book of his I was forced to read.  
I may read his version of the Arthurian legends, though. I remember reading an excerpt of it (for some standardized test or something) in which Merlin asks for Uther's first born son in return for saving his kingdom and Uther basically says 'yeah, cool, whatever'.  
So there's my pointless rant for the day (man, that went downhill fast).

An apology is also in order for my lack of ability to properly judge in which chapter things will occur.  
I promised some people action in this installment and, well... there isn't really any. Sorry. Maybe not even the next chapter. (Don't revolt, please!)

* * *

Standing to the side of the platform, Arthur listened intently to their future competition.  
According to the announcer who had explained the rules (no fighting, no magic, only five minutes allotted per pair, etc.) it was impossible to lie about one's exploits when standing on the stage.  
Although the four other pairs currently present comprised only a small number of their adversaries, any information on them could prove invaluable.  
The prince glanced to his side and was gratified to see Merlin just as attentive as he.

They were the last pair to speak and as they took their places Merlin stepped forward, shooting Arthur a glance that seemed to say 'I'll handle this'.  
Arthur's brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded and kept his peace.

The warlock stood tall and proud in front of his master, and the sorcerers in the crowd could see a faint golden aura surrounding his person- even those without magic could sense the power radiating from the man.  
Without preamble Merlin launched into his speech with a strong, confident tone.

"I am Emrys; prophesied by the druids to be the most powerful warlock of all time. I was born to magic, moving objects with my mind before I could even speak. I hold mastery over life and death and can manipulate time itself! I have defeated Nimueh, High Priestess of the Old Religion as well as Cornelius Sigan- previously considered the most powerful magic-user."

He gestured to Arthur, who was looking suitably impressed.  
"Along with Prince Arthur, the champion of Camelot destined to become the Once and Future King, I have destroyed an immortal army and conquered the Great Dragon. Together we have faced down trolls, sidhe, shades, undead warriors, evil sorcerers, griffins, afancs, and countless other threats."

Here he cast a glance at Arthur, who moved to his side and took over the oration.  
"We have fought together for years and jointly overcome any that have opposed us. We may have come here in captivity, but we could have escaped. We remained by our own will in order to participate in this contest. If you sponsor us we will fight freely and to the best of our ability."

He straightened further, projecting his most princely air.  
"And as the most skilled warrior in all of Camelot I can promise you we will win."

With that the two of them withdrew to their places alongside their rivals, leaving the crowd in silence.

Merlin smiled to himself.  
_Who needs five whole minutes?_

The announcer took the stage once more as some among the audience began mumbling among themselves, clearly doubting the efficacy of the anti-falsehood enchantment.  
"Well, that was certainly interesting, now wasn't it?"

He, along with all the others packed into the tent, was more used to the normal boasts of tournaments won and damsels rescued and didn't know quite how to react.

Gathering his wits he continued on with his appointed task.  
"Now, you'll have a short period of deliberation before the bidding begins. The auction will be done by the candle."

More surprised murmurs broke out as the nobles and representatives milled about in impatience.

Meanwhile Arthur had turned to his servant.  
"And _what_ was all _that?_"

Merlin wore a supercilious expression, pretending to inspect the nails on his left hand.  
"Didn't you know? I'm rather awesome."  
He picked imaginary dirt from his fingernails while surreptitiously watching Arthur's face shift through several emotions.

Eventually he settled for rolling his eyes and resting his forehead in one hand as his head swung back and forth.

The manservant tried not to laugh at him, really he did, but it just didn't work.

The blond head snapped up and blue eyes locked with blue.  
"We'll talk about this later."  
He stated firmly.

Merlin nodded.  
"Of course, Arthur. I never really wanted to keep secrets from you... well, no more than the average person."

The prince chuckled at this.  
"The very last thing you are, Merlin, is average."

That lopsided grin was enough; and the royal found himself smiling in return.

* * *

After waiting entirely too long for the announcer to return, Arthur was happy to see the man take the stage.

"Gentlemen!"  
He cried as the audience began to quiet down.  
"Allow me to explain the rules."

Reaching into his jacket the man withdrew a tiny candle stub, securing it in a holder on top of the small table that had been placed onstage during the interim.

"At the beginning of each round a guttering candle will be lit and bidding will continue until it dies out naturally. All are free to yell out their price at any time. The highest offer stated before the flame extinguishes wins the lot. Let's all try to be civil, shall we?"

Some chuckles erupted from the crowd- apparently there was at least some truth to that rumor about a fight occurring in previous years.

"First up to the block- Prince Arthur Pendragon and the warlock Emrys!"  
He paused while the two were ushered to his side before lighting the wick.  
"Begin!"

The amounts of gold quickly reached numbers that were an affront to his peasant sensibilities so he busied himself assessing the potential buyers.

He scanned each face, taking in the details of their raiment and demeanor, looking for someone who would cause his intuition to spark.  
There.

His eyes settled on an unassuming man near the back of the throng, a man whose hazel eyes were staring back at him in turn.

Merlin nodded to himself and turned to Arthur, raising a hand to hide his face from the onlookers (the other hand followed by necessity).  
"Pretend I'm speaking to you."  
He whispered before incanting a delicate spell, eyes flashing gold as he tugged a dark hair free with his other hand.

The warlock turned back to the proceedings, giving a meaningful glance to the man in back.

Raising his eyebrow in question, the man nevertheless complied, calling out his bid in a loud voice just as Merlin released the hair.

The candle flared ever-so-slightly just before the flame winked out.

"And we have ourselves a winner!"


	18. Regret and Satisfaction

A/N: Thanks for the nice feedback guys, I felt the last chapter was a bit substandard myself (and if you ever feel that way, go ahead and say so!) so I was glad to see it wasn't completely unacceptable.  
Apparently I'm in a writing slump here, but I forced myself to write this- not sure if any good came of it. :(

And then: that awkward moment when a summary includes an acronym you don't recognize and you read it anyway only to be completely horrified by what you find (and you still don't really know what the acronym stands for).

I think my brain has been damaged on top of my muse being wounded.

In other news: how awesome was the preview for this week's episode? I can hardly wait!

* * *

The losing bidders erupted in protest, some rushing the stage while others turned on the winner.

The announcer tried in vain to shout them all back into order as the auction guards closed in from their former posts at the edges of the tent.  
There were some small scuffles but most were brought under control with a minimum of actual violence (to the disappointment of those who were observing the whole thing).

Jazar stepped forward and reclaimed the chain, pulling the pair toward a heavily-guarded area in the back of the tent where another official was standing by a chest, itself wide open and ready to receive the copious amount of gold that would be changing hands today.

Arthur studied their buyer carefully.  
He wasn't entirely certain, but it seemed to him that Merlin had specifically chosen this man even though it didn't seem that they knew each other (if the measuring glance passing between the two was anything to go by).

He was a lean man, probably in his late twenties, with dark brown hair that was just long enough to partially obscure his hazel eyes.  
His skin was light but not nearly so pale as Merlin's.  
The clothing he wore was plain but of good quality, he was probably a high-ranking member of a noble house's staff, possibly even the youngest in a long line of heirs.  
Altogether he was completely unremarkable in his appearance.

Not the actual purchaser then, a proxy more like.

The man's arm stretched forward to give the official the auction house's share of his bid and the prince noticed a simple device had been embroidered on the breast of his tunic.  
It looked to him like an unfletched arrow pointing upward, but to Merlin it seemed to hold deeper meaning.

Arthur looked between the two curiously but decided now was not the best time to break out all the questions he had been collecting throughout the day.

Turning back to Jazar he watched their new 'escort' fight to contain a sneer of disgust as he gave the slave trader his pay- and it was quite the sizable amount, even the royal prat in him didn't feel too undervalued.

The outlaw was quick to secure his ill-gotten gains and proceeded to make a further sales pitch.  
"I am also willing to sell _this_ beauty here" he yanked cruelly on the chain and gestured to the collar around Merlin's neck "if your master is interested in... _controlling_ his new acquisition."

The man looked faintly ill at the sight of it.  
"I'm afraid I don't have the authority to make further purchases. You'll have to take up your cause with My Lady Rasner."

"Would be my pleasure to!"  
The brigand was greedily rubbing his hands together at the thought of further profit.  
"Where might I find her?"

Their escort sighed.  
"You may accompany me if you wish- I go now to return to her side."

Jazar strode toward the tent flap, still pulling Merlin (and by extension, Arthur) along behind.  
Their guide frowned at this but didn't seem to think it worth commenting on as he stepped in front to lead the way.

* * *

Merlin and Arthur stood among a horde of scruffy looking men (and a few women) as Jazar made small talk with Lady Rasner.  
The pair looked around at their fellow slaves before turning back to their 'master'.

The woman was overly plump and sported black hair with that slight blue tinge that gave away the presence of dye.  
Bright rouge tinted her lips and cheeks but did little to stave off the age made apparent by the wrinkles on her face and hands.  
She was likely in her forties, possibly even her fifties.  
Her clothing was ornate to the point of complete impracticality should she need to move- something that was of little concern to her as she was seated on a plush litter designed to be carried by a group of slaves currently standing meekly to the side.

Merlin was not impressed and Arthur even less so, having the experience to know that most of the ornaments were merely imitations of the fine jewels and precious materials they purported to be.

She was laughing now, an ear-shattering screeching noise that set Arthur's teeth on edge.  
The two were haggling and the woman was trying to use her... _feminine charms_ to lower the price.  
Jazar was smiling indulgently but stubbornly kept the number high until the Lady gave in, pouting as she motioned to one of her men to pay.

The prince was not loathe to see Jazar leaving the party, though he was none too happy to watch the man getting away.

_I'll be seeing you later, don't you worry._  
Arthur promised internally.

"Let me take a look at my investment."  
The pompous noble, with chain now in hand, forced Merlin forward with Arthur close behind and jerked on the chain to make the warlock fall to his knees.

"You too."  
The woman waved airily in the prince's direction.

He glowered at her, but once again a look from Merlin had him grudgingly complying.

The warlock flinched back as ring-laden hands reached out to cup his face, turning it back and forth before releasing him and paying the same attention to the prince who looked even more revolted by the touch.

"Yes, I think you'll serve well. It simply wouldn't do to have some ugly brutes representing such a fine Lady as myself."  
She proclaimed, preening and posturing for no one in particular.

"You've done well Ardale."

"Thank you, My Lady."  
The man who had brought them to this fate said, bowing slightly.  
Arthur may have been imagining it, but to him the man seemed rather less than pleased by the praise.

"Now let's try out this new toy."  
Her voice was cold as she ran her fingers along the fine tracings on the binding collar.

Merlin shivered slightly but his gaze remained firm as the woman laughed at him.  
Her eyes glinted as she fell silent before speaking one word.

"**Suffer.**"

* * *

Arthur stared in horror as his friend once more fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

A short cry had escaped Merlin's lips before being cut off.  
His chest heaved and the prince could hear the repeated sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth as the warlock fought to contain his screams.

The blond had started forward but was stopped by a glare from Lady Rasner- a look that promised more pain should he interfere.  
And so he knelt mere feet from his tormented companion, hands balled into ineffectual fists.

They should have escaped.  
He could have found someone to get the collar off, they could have entered the tournament on their own.

These thoughts and similar ran through Arthur's mind as he watched Merlin convulsing amongst the wildflowers of the meadow.

The Lady Rasner, however, seemed to be far from satisfied.  
"Not going to yell? Well I'm afraid that's my favorite part."

She feigned a regretful look.  
"I wanted to save this one for later, but you just insist on being difficult."  
Her grin could've belonged to a cat playing with a mouse- if cats were inherently evil.

"**Burn.**"


	19. Tóspringe

A/N: After a fantastic Thanksgiving with friends and family I believe my muse has recovered.  
Actually had a burst of writing energy and started another fic: a collection of shorts called "Neckerchief Chronicles".  
You should all check it out ^_~.

Now for the bad news: starting next week I will be working super overtime. I'm hoping I'll still be updating regularly, but all those hours tend to build up and make me want to do nothing but sleep during the little time I have at home. Either way we shall see, but you have been forewarned that updates may dry up with no further notice.  
Let's see how far we can get before that point, shall we?

This one's a relatively long chapter, which is good since everything's taking so much longer than I expected it to. I think the tournament will begin next chapter, so you should probably expect it three chapters from now.

* * *

_Lady Rasner's face contorted into a feral grin._  
"_**Burn.**__"_

Merlin gave up his efforts to remain silent and screamed his anguish into the dirt as he curled into himself, hands grasping at the grass and flowers surrounding him.  
The collar was red-hot and the warlock's skin was beginning to imitate that shade.

Arthur was about to charge forward once more when the man- Ardale- stepped past him and knelt before his mistress.

"My Lady, might I suggest that you refrain from damaging him? It is, of course, your right to do with him as you please-" his face said that he believed otherwise, but the Lady wasn't looking "but I'm afraid his performance might be affected if this goes much further."

The woman gazed at him with narrowed eyes while he schooled his face into one of sincere subservience.  
After a moment she switched to a pout.  
"Oh very well. **Stop.**"

As his manservant relaxed into blessed unconsciousness, Arthur rushed forward.  
He was hesitant to touch the flushed skin, but Merlin was already out so he went ahead and gave him a quick once-over.

His heart was still pounding and breathing a bit quick and shallow, but the prince didn't detect any signs of further injury.  
He hated to think about what the man's neck must be like under the collar, but there was little he could do about that now.

"You will carry him." Lady Rasner sniffed and gestured at Arthur imperiously, motioning to the slaves behind her who silently took up the litter and carried the noble away.

Arthur glared daggers at her retreating form as Ardale stood and took up a position next to the two.

"If you will allow me, I can help your friend."  
Blue eyes looked searchingly into hazel.  
"I can't clear the red skin, the Lady would... react poorly. But I can treat any internal hurts he may have acquired."

The royal considered the offer and concluded that the man was most likely genuine in his concern.  
He nodded his agreement and Ardale knelt, holding a hand over Merlin's forehead.  
"**Þurhhæle dolgbenn.**"

Merlin sighed in his sleep and Arthur felt that his pulse and breathing had settled to a normal level.  
He looked up at the brown-haired man.  
"Thank you." He said earnestly.

Ardale shook his head.  
"It is the least I could do. Now, we need to be on our way before the _Lady_ takes note of us falling behind."

The man helped Arthur to his feet and the two of them wrestled Merlin up onto the prince's shoulder before they joined the shambling procession of slaves; Ardale moving on once he saw that the royal could handle the additional weight.

"Well this is turning out to be a fun trip."  
Arthur muttered to himself, adjusting Merlin's position and shuffling forward along with his sullen brethren in captivity.

* * *

It wasn't particularly far to their destination, but it had still taken nearly an hour with the pace set by the slaves- most of whom had their strides limited by shackles.  
Merlin had woken up shortly before their arrival and assured Arthur that he was 'perfectly fine' and 'would like to walk on his own two feet, thank you'.

The prince still watched him like a hawk but saw no sign of discomfort aside from the slightly burnt skin.

The would-be competitors were hustled into a ramshackle building standing alone along the roadside while the Lady continued on to her significantly more luxurious estate in the city that was just visible down the road.

Arthur surveyed his surroundings.  
There were twelve other captives present aside from himself and Merlin with easily twice as many guards keeping a close eye on them.

Their current location looked to be a rough sort of barracks with cots lining the walls, though the installation of bars around each pair of beds made it clear these were not quarters for willing guests.

In the center of the space was a table laden with weapons being closely monitored by a handful of particularly burly looking men.

An imposing bear of a man stood in front of the group and hitched his belt up before launching into a speech.  
"Right then, I imagine you'd all like to know what the devil's going on, eh?"

He seemed a bit disappointed when his audience merely stared back at him, hatred in their eyes.  
"Well you, my lucky friends, have been selected to compete in the Key and Sword tournament! Imagine the glory involved in even participating!"

Once again the prisoners were having none of it.

The man harrumphed.  
"Fine, just the bare facts then. The only way you're getting out of this alive is by winning. The Gauntlet- which you'll be fighting in- is a series of challenges. Any team that survives the first challenge moves on to the second and so on until only one pair remains. If only one member of a team survives they may be assigned another partner or killed out of hand, whichever is convenient."

The glares leveled in his direction would've killed a lesser man outright.

"The Lady has been generous enough to provide you with weapons" he gestured to the table.  
"Once you have found a partner you may step forward and choose _one_ for each of you. Be sure you pick carefully, your decisions from here on out will determine whether you live or die."  
He grinned cruelly and spun on his heel, swirling his cloak with unnecessary drama before sweeping out the door.

Arthur and Merlin, already being paired, stepped up to the table while the others eyed each other warily in the background.

After a moment of glancing at the piles the warlock turned to his prince.  
"Pick out blades for both of us, but not from that pile- they're all enchanted."

The swordsman eyed the indicated heap.  
"Are they dangerous? Should we warn the others?"

Merlin shook his head.  
"No, they've been enhanced and are safe to use, but I can do much better. The other magic-users will probably be able to sense the enchantments without being told."

Once more Arthur found himself being impressed by his friend's off-hand confidence.  
Sifting through the blades he selected the best from among them, making sure to find a lighter sword for Merlin.

"If you're done then pick your bunks and settle down. Food will be served after everyone's secure."  
One of the guards grunted.

The pair headed for a corner cell from which they would be able to keep a lookout over the entire room and watched as the other fighters squabbled amongst themselves.  
Two guards took up their post outside the cell door, which was now locked.

Certain he wouldn't be heard over the ambient noise, Merlin whispered to Arthur.  
"I'm going to help them escape tonight."

The prince wasn't surprised by this proclamation, but he was a bit concerned.  
"Are you sure? What if she decides to punish you for it? Assuming we're going to stay here twiddling our thumbs like idiots."

The warlock gave him a slight smile.  
"Yes, I still intend to stay. I think this is the best place for now, though I can't really explain why."

He checked to make sure the guards were still oblivious.  
"I'll knock the guards out tonight and set everyone else free. Then we'll have time to get some preparations done before sleeping ourselves. From there I'm hoping the _Lady" _there was even more sarcasm in the title than when the man said 'Sire' "will be grateful enough for our continued presence that she'll leave us be. Especially if we seem put out that the others escaped without us."

He shrugged.  
"And if not, then I'll deal with the repercussions."  
Privately he also suspected that Ardale would act on their behalf.

Arthur looked like he wanted to object, but knew that protests would fall on deaf ears.  
"Very well, but let it be known that I'm not too keen on this plan."

Another lopsided grin that wasn't as bright as it usually was.  
"I can't let them be sent to the slaughter, Arthur. I _can_ help and I _will._"

The prince sighed.  
"I know, and I don't want to see innocent people killed any more than you. I just hope you don't wind up paying for it."

Now the twinkle was back in the warlock's eyes.  
"It's good to know you care" he managed to sound both teasing and sincere.

"Idiot."

* * *

Having eaten their meager supper of bread, cheese, and water; Arthur and Merlin were watching the guards, most of whom were currently engaged in a game of dice on the now weapon-free table.

"Ready?" Merlin whispered.  
Arthur nodded, shielding the warlock from view as he chanted softly before releasing a lock of dark hair with glowing eyes.

The enemy warriors fell to the floor abruptly, some snoring loudly within moments.

The clatter successfully awoke those captives who had managed to fall asleep.

With another quick spell the cell doors all sprung open.

"Go quickly!"  
Merlin urged.  
"There's no one outside, you'll get away as long as you hurry into the woods!"

Not interested in hanging around any longer, the freed slaves took up their weapons and streamed out the door as Merlin cast a few more spells to free the sorcerers among them of their magical bindings when possible (some had been drugged and there was little he could for them in this situation).

None of them even so much as looked back as they made good their escape, though there were a few shouts of 'thanks' to be heard above the sounds of hasty retreat.

"Well there's that done."  
Merlin said, closing their own cell door.

"**Tóspringe!**" He then intoned, biting a thumbnail off to release the magic.

Their shackles fell to the floor and Merlin swept them under the bed in the cell next to theirs.

"What, afraid of getting a bald spot?"  
The blond asked, grinning a little.

"Please, I'm not a vain peacock like you Arthur. It was simply another experiment. It's good to have options, you know."

"_Sure_ Merlin."  
The sarcasm was almost palpable.  
"So what's the next step in your brilliant plan?"

The warlock had settled onto one of the cots with Arthur's new blade across his lap.  
"The next step is to enchant your blade while everyone else is senseless- _this_ is going to be _good_."

The gleam in Merlin's eye was both reassuring and slightly frightening at the same time.


	20. Juggling

A/N: Phew! I am worn out! But it is so great to have an actual weekend again and I really wanted to get back into this story so here I am.  
Authors: am I the only one who likes to go back and read what's already been written? I don't think it can be too odd since most people tend to write the sort of thing they like to read, and it definitely helps me get back into the story after being away from it. Though it also brings to light all the little errors I've made along the way- if you guys ever notice anything like that don't hesitate to tell me (even if it's something as nit-picky as two spaces between words). I don't have a beta but I would like to have the finished work be as polished as possible.

The hiatus was longer than I expected, but I don't regret the decision. Looking back at what I wrote during that time I notice a distinct drop in quality- details and interesting bits left out and potential left unexplored; thus I am glad I kept this fic for better times.

I had the first section of this written last Saturday and thought about posting it before deciding I _didn't_ want to be murdered. Hope you agree with that choice since it's too late to change it now.

All that aside I hope you're all still with me and that this chapter isn't a complete and utter let-down after the long wait :)

* * *

Merlin stared at the sword.  
Arthur stared at Merlin.  
Moments passed.

The prince gave an explosive sigh of boredom.  
"This is all very anti-climactic Merlin."

The warlock didn't even spare him a glance.  
"I'm testing the sword to see how much power it can accept. It's rather important and I need to concentrate."

"Are you telling me to shut up, _Mer_lin?"

"If you understand then why do you keep talking?"

Arthur briefly considered throttling the man but, well, he did have a sword in his hands... plus the whole all-powerful warlock thing...

"Fine" he grumbled, staring around their cell and wishing Merlin hadn't been so quick to re-lock the door. He'd just begun counting the cracks in the wall when he heard a strange sort of sing-song chant coming from his companion and he quickly returned to staring at the man.

One fine-boned hand gripped the hilt as the other slid along the length of the blade, leaving a trail of red in its wake. The royal was about to protest when threads of brilliant blue and gold light began streaming from the blood to encapsulate the sword.

Arthur watched in awe as Merlin removed his bleeding hand from the edge to clench it in a fist above the blade, his incantation increasing in volume and intensity as the crimson stream dripped down to collect in the fuller where it solidified.

The prince had to look aside as the light flared before fading in time with Merlin's voice and the gold in his eyes. When he turned back the warlock was kneeling in front of him, presenting the sword with both hands.

"Your weapon, Sire." His voice was weary but proud, the title lacking the usual sarcasm.

"Merlin..." He took the sword, noticing that the grip was also blood-red.  
A quick glance confirmed that both of his friend's hands had indeed been cut.  
He frowned at that, but what was done was done- and the result was magnificent.

Brandishing the weapon experimentally he found the weight and balance to be perfectly suited to his hand; the blade gleamed brightly- free from blood aside from the now-permanent ruby channel extending from the cross guard to the central ridge.

"Flawless" he breathed, hardly aware he was speaking aloud.

"Well it's no Excalibur, but I did have occasion to learn a thing or two about empowering mortal weapons a while back." He pressed off his knee to stand, wincing at the pressure on his injured palms.

Guilt flashed across the royal's face.  
"Merlin, you shouldn't have-"

"Don't start that, Arthur. You need a good weapon or neither of us will survive this. Besides, no real harm done- look." He raised his hands and spoke a spell, erasing the slices on his palms.

He conveniently neglected to mention that magic could not replace blood- something he had been losing entirely too much of in recent times.

If it weren't for the lingering redness of the burns his skin would've been pale enough to alert Arthur to his precarious condition, but as it was the prince attributed the man's abrupt collapse onto the bed as mere fatigue from the magic on top of the day's activity.

"Get some sleep, Merlin."

"Way ahead of you, _Sire_."

Arthur continued to watch him even after he fell into slumber.

* * *

Red. A lot of it.  
He stared at the sea of red, willing it to resolve itself into something with meaning.

"Ah, Kapner, I see you've acquired the fibula."

The voice was loud and oddly distorted, sounding slightly muffled with a metallic edge to it though it was clearly coming from the vast scarlet expanse in front of him.  
Robes. He was staring at red robes covering some unknown person's chest.  
The implications of this viewpoint were about to pass through his mind when he was startled by another rumbling voice.

"Yes, I have it right here."

The red turned to black for a moment, but he was too distracted by the vibration of the voice rippling through him.

"Good, good. I'll take it now."  
The red shifted a bit and a thin, brown, neatly trimmed beard came into view.

"My payment?"

"In good time."

The scene wobbled a bit before the voice answered in a firm tone.

"There are strict rituals to observe when passing the Fibula of Nytnes from one owner to another. Since you do not have magic you can only claim it with money- and it needs to be paid before you can take it."

"Ah but we both know there is another way."  
There was a cruel tint to the voice and Kapner was quick to interpret it.

"You can't-"

Kapner's protest cut off with a choking gasp as a flash of steel passed his limited field of vision.  
There was a surge of power and an oddly detached feeling of heat before his awareness was overwhelmed.

* * *

Merlin awoke with a gasp.  
_I'm really getting tired of this._

He glanced over and saw Arthur watching him so he spoke before the prince got a chance.  
"Best to get some rest, we'll need to be at our best for tomorrow."  
Then he rolled over and fell into blissfully dream-free sleep.

* * *

"WAKE UP."  
Not Arthur's favorite way to greet the morning, but it was better than a kick to the head.

The speech-giving bear of a man from the previous night- probably the commander of the guards- stood before them on the other side of the bars.  
"Where are the other fighters, hm?" He asked threateningly.

The royal looked about in bewilderment, not quite awake enough to respond.

Merlin, on the other hand, was wearing a heartbroken expression as he surveyed the empty cells.  
"They left us?"

Arthur was impressed. The man had even managed to make his voice break a bit as he spoke.

The commander grunted.  
"You expect me to believe you know nothing about their escape."

If he didn't know Merlin so well the royal would've believed the man to be genuinely intimidated, what with the way his eyes widened as he shuffled backward on his cot while shaking his head.

"Ho-onestly, sir, we don't know anything." He turned his panicked gaze toward Arthur as if looking for protection.

"It's true." The prince lied, trying not to sound too belligerent.

Their interrogator sneered at them, then shrugged.  
"We'll let the Lady sort this out. I'm sure she'll be happy to _take care_ of you."


	21. Let the Games Begin

A/N: As always, many thanks to my lovely reviewers- you keep me posting :)

So, authors, have any special music that inspires you to write?  
I have a couple Pandora stations that I typically listen to- one based off Alex Clare's "Too Close" and another off Muse's "Knights of Cydonia" (So yeah, it was kind of funny when BBC put out those trailers using that song). And yes, I appreciate the appropriateness of the band name.  
This chapter I went crazy and shuffled the two stations (truly a bold move).

(I apologize in advance for the length- I wanted to give the opening event its own chapter.)

Enough silliness, on with the action!

* * *

Lady Rasner tapped an overly-long nail against her front teeth.  
"Now what am I going to do with you?"  
She spoke as if addressing a puppy that had just chewed through the leg of a chair she had been sitting in.

"If I may, my Lady?"  
Ardale stepped forward, in front of where Merlin and Arthur were kneeling on the floor.  
She glared at him but nodded her assent.

"At the auction these two claimed that they were participating willingly and I think this supports those claims." He looked back at the two briefly. "It would explain why the others left them locked up."

"And what? You're suggesting that I be grateful? That they shouldn't be punished?"

Arthur saw their advocate shrink back slightly at the cold tone of her voice, but he pressed on.  
"I am only stating that the games begin shortly, My Lady, and they don't seem to have done anything to warrant being... _disadvantaged_ at this point."

Lady Rasner's eyes narrowed, her pupils nearly invisible amongst the thick eye-paint.  
"At this point the games hardly matter to me- I will have my _entertainment_ one way or the other."

She considered the stony expressions of the two captives before her.  
"But I will give you a chance. You-" she pointed to Merlin "will not be released from the collar's suppression for the first round. If you manage to survive you will be allowed to use your magic in future events."

She pursed her lips in contemplation.  
"In fact... I didn't think this particular command would be very interesting, but you two seem to have a unique relationship." She held out a hand and snapped her fingers, a guard placed Merlin's chain in her grasp and she yanked the man closer.

Arthur's eyes snapped over to the warlock's, but his companion's eyes remained firmly fixed on his tormentor's, clearly not wanting to give her the satisfaction of showing any uncertainty.

"**Drain."**

The collar gleamed and the prince watched Merlin slump slightly before forcing himself to straighten up, teeth clenched and jaw tense for only a moment before relaxing.

"What did you do?" The royal asked menacingly.

Lady Rasner laughed lightly.  
"The collar is absorbing his magic- and once that's done it will begin to take his physical strength."  
Her laugh gained an additional shade of cruelty at Arthur's countenance- both worried and enraged.  
"Ah, this _is_ fun. Don't worry your pretty little head, _princeling_. I will retract the command as soon as you complete the first task."

She leaned forward and leered.  
"If he doesn't survive, would you prefer to die as well?"

Her gales of laughter made Arthur want to leap forward and choke her right then and there, but he had just enough control to remain silent and in place- Merlin's soft admonition may have helped.

"Take them." She waved her hand and the two were pulled to their feet and ushered out of the room.

* * *

"I'm sorry." Ardale apologized softly.

"Why?" Arthur was genuinely taken aback.

"I fear my words may have caused you undue suffering." He looked to Merlin with sympathetic eyes.

"No" the warlock shook his head emphatically, only wincing slightly at the collar's pull on damaged skin. "You can't blame yourself for her sick idea of entertainment. You were only trying to help- and I appreciate it."

"I will try harder in future." The man promised.

"I'm not entirely sure that will be necessary." Merlin said enigmatically, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly.

Arthur and Ardale looked at him questioningly but he only shook his head again.  
"We'll see."

* * *

"Being mysterious really doesn't suit you, Merlin."  
Arthur had always found the man a riddle, but his secretive little smile had persisted to the point where it was driving the royal mad so he felt the need to say something.

"You're just jealous."

"Why, in Camelot's name, would _I_ ever be jealous of _you_?"

"Oh, plenty of reasons, I'm sure. But in this case you're miffed since you're too simple to be considered cryptic."

"Quiet back there!" A guard commanded.

The pair were currently huddled in a dank corridor along with several other competitors, waiting to be released into the arena. A red-robed official had explained the rules of the Gauntlet to them all: anything goes, the survivors fight again tomorrow.

They were simple and to the point- rather like Arthur himself.  
_Great, now I'm imagining Merlin's insults all on my own._

"The goal today is to get to the other side of the arena- use any methods available to you. Anyone who succeeds before daybreak tomorrow will pass on to the next round. Good luck."

The official waved a hand and a guard opened the arena gate, his fellows moving forward to force the reluctant fighters out into the ring.

Merlin and Arthur stumbled out into the harsh morning sunlight, blinking to clear their dazzled eyes.

"_What_ is _this?_" The prince took in the lush forest before them, populated by exotic and wholly-unfamiliar plants; animals too, by the sound of it.

Merlin observed the green canopy and screeching sounds of disturbed wildlife.  
"I believe it to be a jungle, Sire." He answered in a perfect impression of Gaius.

"And that means what, exactly?"

"It means we're in for a bit of excitement."


	22. Carry Through

A/N: I have finally defeated this chapter and whipped it into submission!  
Okay, so it was more like we reached a compromise, but still- it's finished!  
I took a day off of work just to write this up for you guys (and because I like taking off of work).  
Please enjoy the fruit of my labors :)

* * *

"Alright, Sire, I only know a bit about jungles from Gaius' books, but from what I've read they are _very_ dangerous so the first thing you need to remember is: Don't. Touch. Anything." He emphasized each word, reaching out to smack Arthur's reaching hand away from a bright blue frog.

The prince pouted and drew his hand back as Merlin continued.

"We'll have to cut our way through the bracken for a while but it might thin out in the middle. Keep a sharp eye out for animals- I've read there are snakes large enough to swallow a man whole and cats that rival horses in size. It seems even the plants can kill you in a place like this."

"A cheery thought." Arthur responded, brandishing his sword and beginning to hack through the vines and shrubs.

"Isn't it?" Merlin responded brightly, pulling his own blade but electing to follow in the path his partner was clearing.

The prince glanced back at him a bit worriedly.  
"Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Are you alright? Is the collar hurting you?"

The warlock looked confused for a moment before realization dawned.  
"Oh, that? Nothing to worry about. I told you my magic is basically limitless. I admit it doesn't feel pleasant- rather like having a steadily bleeding wound- but it won't actually harm me."

Arthur wasn't impressed by this response. The younger man clearly was not at his best, judging by his slight unsteadiness and the dark rings under his eyes. If his skin hadn't still been red he'd probably be pale as marble.

"I don't want you passing out on me."

Merlin snorted.  
"_You_ pass out far more often than _I _do."

"I hardly think that's accurate." The royal replied, standing up a bit straighter as he cut down plant matter with renewed vigor.

"Shall we count? Let's see... you passed out first when-"

"Sh!" Arthur motioned for silence when he heard the sound of movement up ahead, followed by a deep voice.

"**Folge min bebod!"**

Merlin leapt in front of Arthur, pulling hair from his head as he stretched out his hand.  
"**Scildan!"**

The collar gleamed on the warlock's neck and his shield failed to appear, resulting in the servant being flung back into his master.

Arthur sprung up immediately, taking a protective stance in front of Merlin who remained on the ground.

"Who's there? Show yourselves!"

The noise of their attackers' passing retreated, the aforementioned apparently unwilling to continue once the aspect of surprise was lost.

"Cowards!" The prince shouted.

"I hardly think you should be complaining, _Sire_. Especially since it seems the spells I _cast _are being absorbed along with my internal magic supply."

"Merlin!" Arthur spun around and knelt by the warlock who was still sprawled in the dirt.

"Are you injured?"

"Not exactly... just... tired." He looked away, embarrassed.

"Just tired?" The royal asked, disbelieving.

"From the... blood loss?" Merlin's expression was contrite and he spoke as if the words were being drug from him.

Arthur sighed.  
"I _knew_ there was something wrong. You're not still bleeding, are you?"  
Merlin shook his head.  
"Why didn't you say anything before?"

He shrugged.  
"I didn't think it would matter- it usually doesn't. I think perhaps my magic has helped my body with these things in the past and since it isn't able to do that now..." he shrugged again as he trailed off, studiously avoiding the prince's gaze.

"What do you mean 'it usually doesn't'? Merlin, have you-"

"Now's really not the time, Arthur. We need to get going. Will you help me up?"

The royal shut his mouth and looked at his friend with narrowed eyes.  
"Stay here." He pointed his sword at Merlin briefly before moving off a ways.

The servant heard him hacking at something before he returned with an armload of vines.

"What are those for?" He asked suspiciously.

"_These_, Merlin, are for making sure you don't fall off while I'm carrying you."

"What? No. I am not being carried like a small child. No. I can walk on my own."

"Then why are you still on the ground?"

Merlin blushed furiously, the tinge of color visible even over the burnt tone of his face.  
"I-"

"Stop arguing, _idiot._ I'm carrying you and we are getting out of here as quickly as possible."

The warlock looked like he still wanted to argue, but instead clamped his mouth shut and crossed his arms sullenly.  
"Fine."

"Good. Now that that's settled-"  
He reached forward to start securing the ropes to his friend when he took note of the hated collar.

"Merlin, the collar's turned gold."

"Has it?" He brightened noticeably at the news.  
"That's good. Very good..." He trailed off again, eyes growing distant as he became lost in his thoughts.

Giving up on any further conversation, Arthur took advantage of the distraction to finish tying off the vines and knelt on the ground, back facing Merlin.  
"Put your arms around my neck."

Still lost in thought, the servant complied without protest and Arthur stood, binding his arms and knees to keep him from falling off or dragging along the ground. Arthur absently cursed the man for being so tall.

"And we're off." He mumbled to himself, once more drawing his sword and hacking at the undergrowth; being sure to avoid the trail taken by whomever had cast the spell at them earlier.

* * *

True to Merlin's prediction, the forest thinned out until there was barely more than scattered tree trunks obstructing their path. The canopy far overhead blocking out too much light for most plants to grow.

"Here's as good a place to rest as any." Arthur proclaimed, gently slipping Merlin from his back and settling beside him in the hollowed-out base of a giant tree.  
"Is there anything safe to eat in this 'jungle' Merlin?"

"Hmmm... well I did recognize some edibles along the way- wild peppers, jelly fungus, and oyster mushrooms. I suppose the animals would also be an option but I'm not sure seeking them out is a good idea."

The prince nodded.  
"I'll collect some food and be right back- don't wander."

The servant rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, _mother_."

To be perfectly honest he didn't really have the strength to be going anywhere and it was frustrating him greatly.  
He never realized how much his magic had helped him unnoticed.  
Not only the blood loss, but also the stunning spell- which normally would only have knocked him down for a moment- had taken a heavy toll on him.

He sighed and settled back against the tree, watching his master stalk off into the forest.

Arthur's response had implied that he was going to gather some of the plants Merlin had mentioned but he honestly had no intention of doing so.  
Seriously, _jelly fungus?_ There's no way that could be good.

So it was with great relief that he found an animal trail and followed it to a group of what appeared to be pigs.  
Small, hairy, and black; but pigs nonetheless.  
_Perfect!_

Having nothing but his sword Arthur only managed to pick off one before they all scattered, but it would serve.  
He headed back to Merlin's side, finding the warlock had fallen asleep in the few minutes he'd been gone.

The prince frowned but decided to let him rest as he started a fire and prepared their meal.

"Merlin." He called softly, loath to wake him but knowing it needed to be done.

The warlock woke immediately, eyes going straight to the fire and the meat roasting on a stick beside it.  
"Did you find any water?"

"Ah..." It hadn't even occurred to him.

Merlin just rolled his eyes again, shaking his head.  
"See that plant over there? Tall, thin, green- looks like a giant blade of grass?"

Arthur nodded.

"Pull up a few stalks of that, straight out of the ground. That's good."

The prince handed him the plant, watching with interest as he began nibbling on the white part that had been underground.

"Mm. Just brush the dirt off and chew on the end- it's not the same as drinking, but it'll do in a pinch."

Arthur did as instructed and was pleasantly surprised to feel his mouth fill with moisture.  
"Tastes like cucumber."

"That it does. Now, how about some meat?"

* * *

Meal completed, Arthur once again hefted Merlin onto his back and resumed the trek through the dim forest.

"Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"Don't be alarmed, but I'm going to be casting some magic as we go. I might-" he hesitated a moment, but soldiered on "I might pass out, but don't be alarmed."

"What? Why? You know nothing will happen, why strain yourself?"

"Because the collar turned gold." Merlin replied, grinning that stupid taunting grin of his.

"You're trying to be cryptic again? At a time like this you're teasing me."

"No time like the present, _Sire._"

"You're infuriating and I refuse to play this game. Either tell me or keep it to yourself- none of this mockery."

"Very well, my lord."

…

"Well? Are you going to share?"

"Oh no, Sire. You clearly instructed me to keep it to myself."

Arthur could _hear_ his smile and had to stop himself from slapping the man.

"Fine. We'll see what happens the _next_ time you need someone to carry you through a deadly forest."

"Actually, it hasn't been bad. Surprisingly pleasant, in fact. Besides- I'll probably be carrying _you_ next."

"As if you could." The prince scoffed.

"We'll see."

Arthur snorted again, continuing in silence for a while before he heard strings of incantations coming from behind him.  
_I hope you know what you're doing, old friend._

* * *

More than an hour later and the two were still traveling unchallenged.

There had been some sounds of human or animal origin to their sides, but they had yet to see another team since entering the jungle. The surround was eerily silent apart from the occasional animal cry or- two or three times now- the scream of an unfortunate contestant; but all of those had been distant.

"This is just too suspicious. Where's the danger? The excitement?"

Merlin broke off his chanting to answer.  
"Perhaps we've just been lucky? Or maybe they've set up traps around the edges so the audience has a better chance of seeing?"

That second thought sounded a bit too likely.

"The vegetation is getting thicker so we're probably nearing the end. We'll find out one way or the other soon enough."

"Great. Can't wait."

"Does the collar look any different?"

Only momentarily taken aback by the sudden topic change, Arthur turned, just barely able to glimpse the offending item in his peripheral vision.  
"Yes, actually. It looks like it's glowing."

"Almost there, then."

Arthur was still curious, but he wasn't going to let Merlin torment him any further so he faced forward resolutely, unsheathing his sword to once again begin cutting down the thick greenery blocking their progress.

* * *

It wasn't long before Merlin's hunch was confirmed. Arthur could even see the open ground just past the trees and vines, but that mattered little as the earth beneath their feet gave way and deposited them into a deep pit. A pit whose floor was covered in snakes of various sizes- one of which he was fairly certain could swallow them both with little trouble.

"Merlin!"  
He was not panicked, princes didn't panic. It's just that snakes had never been a favorite of his.  
He was _concerned_, that's all. Perfectly reasonable.

Arthur scrambled to his feet, swinging his sword in an arc before him as he backed against the wall.

The warlock, breath temporarily knocked out of him by the fall, resumed his casting with renewed intensity- practically shouting the archaic words.

The prince could feel heat radiating from behind him but didn't dare look, too preoccupied with the mass of hissing reptiles.

He was about ready to admit that he _might_ begin panicking sometime in the near future when he heard a cry of triumph from behind him just as a brilliant golden light exploded, enveloping everything in the pit.

Merlin crowed happily, landing on his feet as the vines previously holding him up dissolved into nothing.

Arthur blinked rapidly to clear his beleaguered eyes.  
"A little warning would have been nice."

"Well there was hardly any time for that, now was there, _Sire?_"

Sight now readjusted, the prince looked at Merlin who was practically bouncing in place, giddy at the return of his magic. _His magic..._

"Merlin! The collar's gone!"

"Very observant, Sire. Nothing gets past you. I'm sure you'll be happy to know I also took care of the snakes."

And it was true, the serpents were all completely still on the ground as if they had been turned to stone- Arthur couldn't believe he'd forgotten about them so quickly.

"Merlin, your neck..."  
It was a bloody, burned, blistered wreck.

The warlock probed it gently, wincing at the slight contact.  
"I'll have to take care of that later. In the meantime-"

He reached a hand down to one of the frozen creatures which then regained its mobility and slithered up his arm to curl loosely around his neck.

"**Nu bebiede ic þe þæt þu lætest þine flæsc sclice gelic nysse."**  
Merlin's eyes flashed and the snake was replaced with a dull green neckerchief.

Arthur gaped at him.  
"Did you just turn a serpent into a scarf?"

"Not exactly. It's still a snake, it just happens to look like a neckerchief for now. It'll behave like one as well. Might come in handy later."

The prince was still staring open-mouthed as the warlock waved a hand to create stairs in the wall of the pit.

"You coming or would you like to stay down here with your new friends?"

Arthur swallowed thickly and followed his companion up into the open air, the cheers of the crowd washing over him.

They had passed the first round.


	23. Passing the Time

A/N: Bet you thought I wasn't going to update this week- well so did I, but here we are.  
Anyways, I had lots of fun looking up snakes and deciding what type to make Merlin's new 'friend'- even though it isn't relevant and doesn't come up in this chapter.

Last chapter received more reviews than any other so far- thanks! (Keep it up! ^_~)  
Please enjoy :)

* * *

*Tap*

*Tap Tap*

…

*Tap*

"_Mer_lin. Would you _please_ stop doing that. You're driving me mad."

"Oh you've been there for a _long_ time, Arthur."

"_Mer_lin..."

"Of course, _Sire_."

The servant lounged back on the cot, pulling his hand back to rest atop his stomach instead of tapping against the heavily carved, magic-imbued bars of their prison.

They, along with the other competitors who had finished the event early, had been confined in cozy spell-resistant cells to wait for their sponsors to claim them after the first round had concluded.

Arthur looked at the metal enclosure with distaste.  
"Merlin, could you get us out of here if you wanted to?"

"Yes, but I'd have to be back in full health. Tomorrow I could probably blow this whole place open with little trouble."

The warlock's immediate answer told the prince that he had already considered this course of action.  
Still, the man's confidence took Arthur slightly aback and the tone of his voice was a bit unsettling.

"What is it, Merlin? Is something wrong with this place?"

His companion scoffed.  
"Wrong? Oh, nothing so mild as that."

Blue eyes blazed in the pale face, the redness having been banished in the initial rush of magic's return.

"_This_ is an _atrocity_."  
Merlin stood and began pacing, then waved at the walls and bars.  
"These cells? The metal was created using the blood of magic-users. The walls? Built with the bones of the same, ground into dust and imbued with enough anti-magic power to make the weakest of sorcerers feel ill."

Arthur swallowed thickly. No wonder Merlin had gone straight to the wooden bed and remained there until now.

"How can the remains of sorcerers suppress magic?"  
He felt a bit bad asking, but he was curious.

The warlock shook his head in disgust.  
"It's a brutal ritual. A spell is cast upon the victim that prevents them from being able to feel or otherwise sense magic, then they are slain with an ensorceled weapon. The enchantment sinks into their flesh and bones to make it permanent even after death as well as expanding the spell's influence to include any who happen to be nearby."

Merlin shuddered.  
"It's such an abomination that even the free-flowing magic of nature avoids spaces created in this manner."

"You seem to know a lot about this..."

"Camelot has one- a cell like this one. Gaius warned me about it."  
Arthur winced at the flatness of the warlock's response and the slightly green tint of his skin.  
_Of course_ his father would have one, even if it _did_ take magic to create.

"Are you going to be okay?"

The servant flashed him a wan smile.  
"I'm a bit nauseous. But as we've gone over before, my relationship with magic is a bit different. I'm sure to be doing better than most or all of the other magical people here."

Merlin stilled, an awful realization hitting him.

"What is it?"

"There aren't any sorcerers without partners."

The prince looked around at the other survivors, scattered about the dank room.

"How can you tell?"

The younger man rolled his eyes.  
"Really, Arthur? You haven't noticed we're all color-coded?"

"What?"

"All of the sorcerers are wearing blue shirts, the warriors have red shirts."

Arthur felt a bit chagrined, but covered it with indignation.  
"Well how was I to know? I hardly went around asking everyone if they had magic!"

He paused, returning to the original subject.  
"Why does that matter?"

"I was just thinking, what if the tournament serves as their source for said bones and blood?"

The prince looked horrified, then resolved.  
"I would never let that happen to you, Merlin."

The servant beamed at his master.  
"I know you wouldn't." He puffed his chest out. "Not that I'd need your help."

Arthur chuckled a bit.  
"I'll believe that when you stop fainting all over the place."

"I didn't pass out even _once _today- and didn't I remind you earlier? _You _faint far more often than _I_."

"Princes _do not _faint."

Merlin sobered.  
"That's another thing- Arthur we should try to keep your... _lineage_ a secret."

"Isn't it a bit late for that?" He replied, thinking about their speech at the auction.

"No, most of the competitors don't know, and I'd like to keep it that way. Everyone's already going to be fighting for their survival- we don't need all of the sorcerers desperate _and _enraged at you."

The royal sighed "fine."

Then he remembered something else from their 'sale' and couldn't resist a jibe of his own.

"So should I be calling you '_Emrys_'?"

The warlock winced a bit at the name.  
"I knew you wouldn't just let that go. But yes, I'd rather not have it getting back to Camelot that Arthur and Merlin won this tournament as swordsman and sorcerer. _You_ can pass your role off as a matter of necessity, but it wouldn't matter what _my_ reasons were. When we finish this you can just tell your father you killed your partner 'Emrys' for having magic."

"Wouldn't that be bad? Don't the druids see you as someone important?"  
The very idea was still rather absurd to Arthur, but he was trying to get a handle on the situation and every little bit of information helped.

Merlin smiled a bit fondly.  
"It'll be okay, they know me- more or less. As long as they know that the prince's faithful manservant remains at his side they'll know that 'Emrys' lives."

"Hm." Arthur regarded his friend for a moment.  
"I don't like it, but I'll trust your judgment on this matter."

The smile widened.  
"Thank you, Arthur."

The two spent some time in companionable silence before drifting off to sleep; the sounds of the jungle still echoing in the background.


	24. Staying

A/N: Long author's note is long!  
Anybody remember way back when I mentioned a future companion piece I had planned to go with this? Well it should be starting soon. _Passing the Time_ will cover those moments Merlin and Arthur spend sitting around doing nothing important during the course of the tournament and should be published right after their corresponding chapter of _BT_. I'll let you know when the first chapter will be going up.

A lot of people commented on the rather morbid content of the previous chapter and I apologize for not giving warning ahead of time- honestly it didn't even occur to me that it was rather disturbing to the reader since I was too busy thinking about Merlin. (Is something wrong with me? Possibly.)  
I'll try to do better in future if similar things happen to crop up.

*Sigh* It can be so hard to decide what to reveal and when. Hoard my secrets or give them away?  
Tough call. Well, at least one or two are coming out this chapter along with the ('off screen') appearance of a new character.  
I was originally going to cast Lord Rasner as somewhat of a pushover, but then I decided I liked him too much for that.  
Here's to hoping that creates fun things in the future!

Just to head off any musings: this story is not slash. None of my stories are slash. I do not write slash.  
Frankly I find Merthur a rather big turn off since I consider romantic love to be a cheapening of their relationship.  
To me their love is agape as opposed to eros (or philia, or storge).  
(Translation: sacrificial love that is deeper than that of a lover, friend, or family.)  
I'm ashamed even of the little bit of innuendo found below, but Merlin sometimes insists on saying inappropriate things- you've gotta watch out for them peasants, ya know. Seriously, this is pretty much the peak of my abilities in that area and it will probably never happen again.  
(Still, I apologize. This is just no good.)

So... I just wondered to myself why spell-check allowed 'agape' and disapproved of the other three.  
Then I realized that 'a-g-a-p-e' is also an English word. (A-gape instead of a-ga-pay)  
Sometimes I'm a moron.

And once again I've created something rather more short than I had intended, but the next bit wouldn't really have gone well tacked onto the end and I certainly wasn't going to create a monster chapter (by my standards) and stuff the rest of the day in here. But on the plus side you got two chapters in as many days :)

* * *

Ardale came to pick them up right as the sun peeked over the horizon, the screeching of the metal hinges making for a rude awakening.

"I am glad to see you are well."  
He stared for a moment at Merlin's lack of collar, but chose not to comment for the moment.  
"Come with me."

Arthur groaned as he rolled out of the cot, following behind Merlin and Ardale with heavy steps.

* * *

Once they had left the arena behind them and were alone on the open road leading back into town their escort turned, purpose evident in his stance.

"Are you serious about participating in the gauntlet? Are you really staying here by choice?"  
His gaze once more drifted to the warlock's neck.

Two pairs of blue eyes looked back at him, their owners shrugging.  
"Would we be following you otherwise? You didn't even bother binding us, after all."

The brunet nodded.  
"I had been hoping to convince you to leave while you have the chance, but if you would remain then I will do my best to see you are treated well."

He resumed his trek toward the distant residences, Merlin and Arthur following suit.

"The Lady Rasner is currently distracted by the arrival of her husband- my father, Lord Rasner."

The prince's eyebrow rose while the warlock looked outright stupefied, questions written all over his face.  
Ardale ignored them and simply continued speaking.

"Who knows what she would have done had she known you rid yourself of that collar, but now that father is here her actions will be limited. He dislikes the tournament himself, considers it to be barbaric, but he does try to keep his wife relatively happy so it is hard to say what he will allow in respect to your care and confinement."

"I will have a room prepared for you. I'm sorry I can only offer you one, but it is better than a cell, yes?"

They had now stopped in front of a fine stone building, twice the size of many similar houses nearby.

"I could have the servants add a second bed" he gave them a measuring look before hesitantly asking "unless you would prefer to share?"

Arthur's face turned a brilliant scarlet as Merlin snorted, eyes laughing at the prince who answered quickly and firmly.  
_"Two_ beds would be much appreciated, thank you."

"Come now, Arthur," he teased "we've slept back-to-back and even shared bedrolls while out on patrol and _now_ you're getting embarrassed?"

"_That_, _Mer_lin, was sharing body heat for survival. _This _is something entirely different."

"Ah," the younger man feigned a look of disappointment "so you're saying I'm good enough to warm your bed, but not worthy of being a companion?"

The prince's mouth gaped, making him look rather like a fish out of water.  
_And I always thought of Merlin as innocent..._

The peasant laughed at him outright.  
"Relax, Arthur, I'm just teasing you. I apologize if my lowborn humor has offended your noble sensibilities."  
He mock-bowed.

Their benefactor, meanwhile, was completely at a loss.  
"I don't understand you two."

Regaining his composure and clearly wishing to pretend the previous conversation had never happened, Arthur shook his head.  
"You get used to it."

* * *

Ardale led them to an isolated guest chamber, not overly-large, but perfectly serviceable.  
It even had a sitting room with its own fireplace and dining table.

"I must leave you for now, but I will return to take you to the arena at noon. I would recommend that you stay within this room as much as possible- a servant will be posted outside to see to your needs." He gave a slight bow and left them to their own devices.

"Now what?" Arthur huffed. Already feeling the boredom creeping up on him.

"I don't know about you, Sire, but I'm going to take a nap. Who knows what today's event will be or how long it will take. I want to rest while I can."  
He moved toward the singular bed and flopped down, kicking off his boots and wrapping himself up in the deep green coverlet.

"Perhaps you've forgotten, _Mer_lin, but there is currently only _one_ bed."

"You're quite right, Sire. I'm enjoying it immensely."

"And what am I supposed to do once you're snoring away over there? Even your obnoxious company is better than sitting here, talking to myself. You could have at least _offered_ me first chance at the bed-"

Arthur would have continued if he hadn't noticed that Merlin was already asleep.

He stepped closer to the tangle of linens, intending to wake the servant and resume his ranting, but stopped at the sight of the pale, thin face before him.  
Without the blinding smile, merry eyes, and taunting mouth to distract him Arthur noticed just how worn Merlin was. Yes, the return of his magic and a few hours of sleep had done him a lot of good, but blood loss wasn't something that could be so easily undone and the slight man had been through much in the past few days.

_Curse him for being so good at directing attention away from himself._

The royal settled into a chair, pondering recent events as he stood silent vigil over his friend.


	25. Impressions

A/N: Words!

* * *

Ardale returned just as they were finishing up their lunch and delivered them to the tournament grounds with hardly a word spoken, bidding them good luck before leaving them to mill about along with the other competitors in the prison chamber from the previous night.

A heavily bearded middle-aged warrior sidled up next to Merlin and Arthur and struck up a conversation, friendly in an offhand sort of way. They recognized him from the auction tent, though his partner wasn't in sight.

"So, 'ow many silencers did _you_ fight off?"

"Excuse me?" Merlin asked in confusion.

"Y'know... those giant wolf-dogs from the first round. Call 'em silencers since they keeps ya from speakin' ta use yer magic. Fores' twas crawlin' wit'em?"

The two looked at each other in silence and the other man took that as his cue to continue speaking.

"My partner drew in five of 'em hisself a' one point- though I had ter kill 'em with hardly enny help from 'im. Useless without 'is magic, 'e is."

The older man was looking at them askance, seeing that they had no intention of answering.

"Well, there be no need to be so unfrien'ly like- just tryin' ter make conversation!"

He stalked off as if he were offended, hiding a slight smirk that betrayed his pleasure with the information gathered.

"'Silencer', hm?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

"From his description I think he's talking about curshounds. As he said, they're a giant mix between a dog and a wolf, a little bigger than a horse. Something about them prevents anyone from speaking in their presence; it's said their howl affects the brain, but no one knows for certain. They prey on magical people and creatures; more appear depending on how strong the source of the magic is. His partner must be fairly powerful, if he actually attracted five at once."

"How many would _you_ attract?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure. It depends on how they detect power- of course, we already know that they either can't sense me at all, or couldn't because of the collar."

"So now our little _friend_ has determined that we encountered none of these beasts and thus believes you to be nearly powerless?"

"That would seem to be the case." Merlin grinned a bit mischievously.

"Do you actually _enjoy_ being underestimated?"

"It's worked well for me in the past."

"And here I expected you to have trouble seeing the other teams as competition."

Merlin's grin slipped from his face.  
"I still intend to save those I can, but there's something about that man..."

Arthur nodded.  
"I know what you mean- I wouldn't be averse to facing him myself."

Another thought occurred to the prince and he found himself looking at Merlin with a bemused look on his face.

"What?" The warlock asked, suspicious.

"It's nothing, just... well I never realized you were so knowledgeable, Merlin."

"Not so much of an idiot, am I?"

"Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"Yes, well, you've _no_ idea how much time I've spent poring over Gaius' books looking for the solutions to the magical problems Camelot inevitably faces every few days. I must have at _least_ half the bestiary memorized, and don't even get me _started_ on the love spells..."

The royal cleared his throat.  
"That's enough, Merlin, I get the point."

The servant grinned at him smugly.  
"Sensitive about that, are we?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

The grin widened.

"Silence! Your attention, please!"  
Another red-robed official was standing on a small platform at the edge of the dungeon, ringed with guards.

Merlin frowned.  
He hadn't noticed the previous day, but there was something about the shade of red that tugged at the corner of his mind.  
Something familiar or significant...

He shook his head, willing himself to focus on the task at hand.

"Today is another simple test. You will be submerged in icy water from which you are not permitted to leave until nightfall. Your only goal is to survive. Good luck."  
He hopped from his perch and was promptly ushered from the room as the guards opened the entrance to the arena, hustling the fighters through it once more.

"Why do I get the feeling there's something he's not telling us?"  
Arthur asked sarcastically.

"Can't imagine. Do you still have that ring I made you?"

It took a moment for the prince to realize what the warlock was referring to, but then he drew it forth from his pocket.  
He had been sure to save the delicate charm from the fate his wardrobe had suffered during the preparations for the auction and had kept it on his person ever since.

Merlin nodded in satisfaction, slipping his own dark ring onto his finger.  
"Good. That way I don't have to focus on keeping us warm while on the lookout for whatever else we may be facing. Yours _is _still working, right?"

"Perfectly."  
If anything it was a bit too hot, but he was sure that would soon change.

Shuffling out the archway, the pair blinked at the bright sunlight reflecting off the frozen expanse where a jungle had been only hours before.

The royal shook his head in disbelief.  
"Ridiculous."

"They clearly have a good amount of sorcerers working for them."  
The warlock commented absently as he gazed up into the stands he hadn't been able to see through the forest.  
The small number of people there increased his feeling of apprehension.  
Where was the rest of the audience?

His musings were quickly cut off when a guard knocked a hole in the ice and pushed the two of them into the frigid water.

The cold reached him for only a moment before the magic in his ring adjusted to the new conditions, warming him enough to be comfortable.

"You alright, Arthur?"

"You mean aside from the growing feeling of unease? Yes, I'm fine."

"Good."

Merlin began looking around at the other teams, giving invisible aid to those who seemed unable to ward against the cold- and it was in those moments of distraction that the creature in the depths came upon him, wrapping one long limb around his leg and dragging him under.


	26. Get Kraken

A/N: And yes, Merlin _did_ tell Arthur how good it was he could concentrate on their surroundings instead of worrying about keeping them warm _immediately_ before getting distracted keeping other people warm. Additionally: I apologize for the title- sincerely. _Such_ a bad pun.  
I am also aware that Merlin used this spell (bregdan anweald gafeluc- the last word referring to a spear or javelin) on Arthur's sword to kill the questing beast with no apparent change in its effectiveness, but I think there should have been so I wrote it as such.

One more thing- the first chapter of _Passing the Time_ should be up sometime in the next few hours, and will contain the conversation referenced at the end of this chapter.

Not that this fic is going to end particularly soon, but I have a poll up on my profile for what you guys would like me to write next so... vote please? I think I'll take a semi-break after finishing this and write some shorter pieces before jumping into the sequel for this (that's why the list of voting choices is limited).

Sorry guys, no cliffhanger for you to complain about this time ^_~

* * *

Panic seized Merlin for an instant as the water closed over his head, causing much of his precious air to escape and bubble to the surface.

Getting ahold of himself, he drew the sword that had hung uselessly by his side thus far and began slicing and stabbing at the sucker-covered appendage currently grasping his ankle.

Predictably, it had absolutely no effect- particularly since the water resistance had weakened the force of Merlin's swings to that of a kitten batting at a loose string.

Clearly a spell was needed.  
Most of his repertoire was based on fire or force, neither of which would be as effective in this situation as they were on land.  
The sword, then.

He knew just the enchantment, but was well aware he wouldn't be able to speak it underwater.

Well, Gaius had once asked him if he incanted spells in his mind so that must mean it was possible to do so- right?

Focusing on the blade, the warlock mentally intoned _**"Bregdan anweald gafeluc!"**_  
Only a faint light flickered along the edge and Merlin almost rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.  
Of _course_ it didn't work properly, he was working with an entirely different type of weapon this time rather than a spear or javelin.  
Correcting himself, he tried again.  
"_**Bregdan anweald gúðsweord!"**_

Brilliant blue flames erupted along the length of the blade and the warlock was quick to renew his attack on the tentacle that was drawing him ever closer to the shadowy creature beneath him. The flesh parted easily with the help of the enchanted weapon and an angry rumbling emanated from the hulking mass below.

Merlin, however, was much more concerned with getting to the surface before his air was _completely_ gone. Looking above him he saw Arthur swimming in his direction, his own blade also drawn.

The servant waved at him to turn around and the two of them managed to make it back to their hole in the ice, gratefully drawing in air and shaking the water from their eyes.

"_What_ was _that?_" The prince exclaimed, regaining his breath first.

"Not- sure." Merlin replied, still gasping. "Haven't had- much occasion to- to research sea creatures."

"Something from the _other_ half of the bestiary, then?" Arthur cocked a mocking eyebrow at him.

"More like an entirely different book." He had returned to breathing normally and was now eying the water warily.

"Right. So how do we get rid of it?"

Shrieking from the other side of the arena revealed that the creature had begun to claim other prey.  
Merlin tensed as if he would dive after them and Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder, sinking a bit as he continued to tread water with one less limb.

"You wouldn't make it in time, and who's to say they can't care for themselves? Focus on coming up with a solution- then _everyone_ will be safe."

The warlock's eyes showed his distress for only a moment before hardening in resolve as he nodded.  
"I've already enchanted my sword, and yours is fine as is- now I just need to remember the spell for underwater breathing... ah, yes, that's it. Ready?"

"You're sure you've remembered it properly?"  
Yes he trusted Merlin, but he also _knew_ him; thus the trepidation in the prince's voice.

"If not then we'll know pretty quickly, don't you think?"

Arthur was not at all reassured by the ridiculous grin his manservant had plastered on his face.  
Nevertheless, he gestured for Merlin to continue.

"You'll want to get underwater as soon as I cast this- you won't be able to breathe air until I dismiss the spell."

The royal found this a bit unnerving, but nodded to show his understanding.

"Here we go- **ábláwan lagu!**"

The pair plunged beneath the ice, tentatively drawing their first breath of liquid before exhaling it in relief.

Merlin winked at his master and pointed toward their adversary with his glowing sword.  
Arthur nodded and the two began their descent.

Even as he swam toward their potential doom, Merlin looked to the side, almost stopping in shock at what he saw.

The audience was watching them, a presumably magic wall keeping them safe from the water while allowing illumination into the tableau.  
The underground stands were packed with nobles, most gesticulating wildly and appearing to yell at the fighters (though the sound didn't reach his ears).

Tearing his gaze away from the sickening sight of the people cheering for his possible demise, the warlock fixed his eyes on the looming shape of the monster before them; it's form slowly resolving into something vaguely recognizable.

Merlin had seen something similar to it washed up on the shore at Gedref, though this was considerably larger, of course.  
It had a bulbous head (body?) with innumerable tentacles protruding from the base, spreading out into the water and reaching for the bobbing forms of the contestants above.

He was glad to see that at least two captives had freed themselves from the beast's grasp and were making their way back to the surface above.  
A third was casting spells with no visible results as his partner hacked ineffectually at the limb.

Merlin looked over to Arthur, jerking his head in the direction of the other pair.  
The prince glanced toward them and nodded, following the warlock as he swam to their aid.

One swipe of his sword and their fellow competitors were heading for open air, casting frantic looks of thanks behind them as they beat a hasty retreat.  
The beast roared, the sound bouncing around the confines of the arena and causing even the audience to cover their ears and wince.

Casting about, the two determined that no other people were in danger at the moment and they continued to approach the creature- which was tracking them warily.

It was soon clear they wouldn't be able to avoid the monstrosity's gaze when they noticed the eyes, each larger than the two of them put together, set on either side of its head.

No help for it then.

Arthur tapped Merlin's shoulders and willed him to understand his signals for once.  
He pointed to his eyes, tapped his chest and gestured to the left while motioning the other man to the right.

The warlock squinted for a moment before realization seemed to dawn and he nodded, taking off toward the right-hand eye; Arthur soon emulating him with the left.

The creature, however, had decided that it was worth a limb or two to get rid of these pests and began shooting tentacles out toward them.  
They soon discovered this was a monumental problem as their opponent was built for sea life and was a far sight faster than they in this situation.

Arthur was quickly being overwhelmed by the onslaught and soon found himself being crushed by one of the larger tentacles, arms and weapon trapped at his side while his bones screamed at the pressure.

His vision was just beginning to fade as Merlin appeared at his side, sword gleaming as it pierced the offending appendage.  
The warlock grasped the prince by the shoulders and stared at him in concern for a moment before his eyes blazed.

Feeling a wave of strength and healing wash over him, Arthur shook his head to banish the lingering fuzziness in his mind.  
He sight cleared just in time to deflect the incoming attack to Merlin's back.

The pale man grinned his thanks before his eyes lit up once more and a faint golden aura formed about him.  
Arthur cocked his head in question and the warlock waggled his eyebrows before taking off at great speed; dispatching several incoming tentacles before turning back to motion the royal forward.

Resuming his forward progress, Arthur realized that he too was glowing faintly and that the water resistance suddenly seemed inconsequential.  
He could have laughed, for so many reasons.

For one, he was _so glad_ Merlin was a sorcerer- and wasn't that an absurdity in itself?  
He _never_ could have predicted thinking such a thing.

For another, this was downright exhilarating.

The suckers attaching themselves to his boots drew the prince back to the present and he threw himself into battle with renewed vigor.

Dodging limbs and severing those that came too close, the two grew near to their goal- and that was when the monster released a great cloud of opaque black substance; effectively blinding them.

_It can never be easy..._  
Merlin thought to himself, propelling his body toward the creature, knowing it had nowhere to go despite not being able to see it.

_You better be safe, you clotpole._

He reached the creature without incident, bumping into it before placing both hands on its flesh.

"_**Ástríce****!"**_

The body beneath his hands shuddered and groaned, but it wasn't enough.  
Gritting his teeth, Merlin tried again, this time using a killing spell.

"_**Acwele!"**_

This close to his victim, the warlock could actually _feel_ the life fleeing the gigantic body and he screwed his eyes shut in regret for a moment.  
He hated killing, even those who would take his own life without a thought.

Then the moment passed and Merlin found himself once again dodging tentacles as they spasmed wildly in death; a task made infinitely more difficult by the thick ink which had only dispersed enough for him to make out the faint light around his own arm.

Sensing no further movement Merlin began to search for his master, beginning to become a bit desperate as time passed and he became less and less able to tell where he was going and where he had come from.

_Where are you Arthur?_

As if summoned by his thoughts, a faint luminescence came into the warlock's sight and he charged forward, finding his friend in apparent good health.

Arthur was also checking Merlin for injuries and, seeming satisfied that the servant was unharmed, he pointed above- at least they assumed it was up; it certainly _looked_ brighter in that direction.

Merlin nodded emphatically and the pair shot upward eagerly, the warlock dismissing his spells just as they broke the surface.

Arthur was laughing and Merlin was smiling broadly.

"Why did you never _tell_ me how great magic is?"

The warlock favored his prince with an amused glance.  
"Enjoying yourself, are you?"

"Just answer the question, Merlin."  
There was no bite to the remark, even without the toothy grin behind it.

"I tried, in my own way. As much as I could without courting disaster. It's not exactly an acceptable topic of conversation, I think you'll agree."

Arthur's face fell a bit.  
"Unfortunately, I do. That'll have to change."

Merlin shook his head.  
"Your father is too set in his opinions. He has his own reasons and to change his ways now would make him feel as if he had failed his kingdom, failed himself, maybe even failed _you_."

The prince looked at the man beside him who always seemed to know more about what was going on than anyone else. It seemed every conversation of late was bringing up more questions about the warlock; what he knew, what he had done... of course, this was hardly the best time or place for a heart-to-heart. But then again, they _did_ have several more hours to spend bobbing aimlessly in the water...

Bracing his elbows on the ice so he could take a rest from swimming, Arthur turned a wolfish grin to his companion.

"Merlin, I think now is a good time to discuss some of those things you've been putting off for 'later'- don't you agree?"


	27. Between Men

A/N: I didn't think I was going to write any more chapters this weekend since I immediately lost interest every time I sat down to do it- but then I woke up this morning and saw some awesome reviews from JessieDog and Insanityisgood25 :) Aaaand Knights of Cydonia just came on Pandora- clearly a sign I should continue.

To all those drawing comparisons to _Hunger Games_... honestly, it makes me a little sad since I planned this out and started writing it before I read the books/saw the movie. Consciously or subconsciously drawing inspiration from a popular series is one thing, but to think you were doing something relatively original only to find out it's a lot like something nearly everyone's read/seen recently is kind of depressing. That said, I still maintain that there are fundamental differences, and I don't take it as an insult if you comment on similarities. As long as you don't start hoping for a love triangle I think we'll all be okay ;)

For today's history lesson: way back in the day, having thick-soled footwear was proof of being a commoner. Nobles wore thin-soled shoes to prove they could afford to constantly replace them with the newest fashions- assuming they actually did enough work to wear them out. _The more you know..._

I feel like this one turned out a bit messy, but couldn't seem to fix it. Hope it's acceptable regardless... :/

* * *

As it turned out, the second round was ended prematurely when it became clear no one was going to freeze to death and the nobles began to riot at the lack of activity.

Arthur and Merlin hauled themselves out of the water, the warlock drying their clothes instantly as they were ushered into the prison from the previous night. The two men shuddered at the feel of the place and were grateful that Ardale was already waiting for them there.

"My Lady is here as well and she is in a... _peculiar_ mood. I advise you to tread lightly."

Arthur noticed Merlin's eyebrow quirking in a suspicious way, but didn't have opportunity to comment before the person in question came into view.

"Well _there_ you are." She gave a 'harrumph' from her perch atop the same litter from days previous.  
"Your performance against the monster today was satisfactory, but I don't recall releasing _you_ from your bonds. What do you have to say for yourself,_ boy?_" She stared down her nose at Merlin, who stepped forward confidently.

"And wh_y _should _I_ have to explain myself to _you?_"

Everyone stared at him.  
The prince hadn't even thought the servant could speak in such a condescending tone.

"The way I see it, you have paid for our services and in return you shall receive most of the prize along with the glory of winning. I ask only for one piece of the reward along with room and board during our time here. You are clearly getting the better part of this bargain."

Lady Rasner, who had been gaping like a fish the entire time, now turned a bright red beneath her face powder and began _shrieking_ at the servant.  
"How _dare_ you! You and your little _friend_ here are my property! You're lucky I've even fed you! If you think you're getting _anything-_"

"Beg your pardon, _my lady_, but what makes you think you have _any_ power over me now that the collar is gone?"

Merlin's voice was cold and dangerous, Arthur thought his own jaw might soon be scraping the ground in shock.

"I could incapacitate all of your guards with less effort than a blink would take, and just as much time. What makes you think _you_ can refuse _me?_"

The noblewoman had begun spluttering and was about to speak again when she was interrupted by hardy laughter.

"He's got you there, Camille."  
The deep voice came from a rather portly middle-aged man with grey-streaked brown hair cut short and partially contained by a scholarly burgundy skull cap. His clothes were clearly costly and well-made, but were also simple and understated; only a simple wine-colored tunic with slightly darker jacket and deep brown trousers with no ornaments aside from a few brass buttons on the jacket. His boots were well-worn, the soles almost as thick as a peasant's would be.

Merlin decided he liked the man, he gave off an aura similar to Gaius in his more mischievous moments.

The noble stood in front of the Camelot pair and gave them a slight bow.

"My apologies- I am Lord Rasner." He straightened and gestured vaguely at the seated woman. "I understand my wife has been treating you poorly, and I'd like you to feel free to go at any time with no fear of repercussion- though I can also see we would be the ones likely to suffer from any... conflict."

Merlin glanced at Arthur for confirmation before continuing to speak for both of them.

"Oh we're perfectly willing to stay- provided the Lady doesn't expect things to remain as they were. We will stay as _guests_ rather than _prisoners._"

The nobleman nodded, looking relieved.  
"I thank you for that. Camille does so love these games- hideous though they are- and from what I've seen you stand a fair chance of winning. Still, I'd hate to be responsible for the death of a royal so please do take my offer of freedom to heart and make good your escape should the need arise."

Arthur gave response to that, inclining his head as he spoke.  
"I thank you for your consideration and hospitality. We shall keep it in mind in the days ahead."

The group surveyed each other in silence for a few moments, though it was clear Lady Rasner wanted to continue yelling. The Lord broke the tension by clapping his hands and turning toward the town.

"Well, no sense in standing about. While we're heading back, tell me: is there anything you need to ease your way through the Gauntlet?"

The two competitors looked to each other.

"Some chain mail would be nice..." Arthur admitted just as Merlin said "some new boots."

The prince looked down at the servant's footwear and had to agree they were in appalling shape, what with the missing buckles and being partially torn apart by suckered limbs in the last round.

Lord Rasner gave another laugh.  
"Neither of those should be difficult to obtain. Now, let's hurry back before dinner gets cold!"

* * *

At the lord's insistence, Arthur and Merlin shared dinner with the two nobles and Ardale, though it was clear the lady and he were pointedly ignoring each other.

After the awkwardness of dinner, they were invited to the library for a private chat 'between men' and the lady stomped off in a huff.

Arthur was surprised- it was the first time he'd seen her use her own feet and he had rather doubted that she was capable of doing so.

Once in the library, the four men settled into comfortable seats in front of a blazing fire; Merlin gazing at the shelves of books in admiration while the others watched him with amusement.

Then Lord Rasner cleared his throat loudly.  
"I hear you are going by the name 'Emrys'."

Merlin's attention was instantly recaptured.  
"That is true."

"And are you the man himself?"

"The druids believe so."

Arthur watched the trio with interest.  
Was he finally going to get the answer to another one of Merlin's mysteries?

Ardale's eyes shifted in the prince's direction.  
"And is he really..."

"I _know_ he is."

The royal rolled his eyes.  
"Is anyone going to let me in on whatever it is we're discussing here?"

"Ah..." The warlock trailed off, clearly not wanting to answer.

Sensing his discomfort, Lord Rasner came to his aid.  
"I could explain it, if you'd rather. I have taken a... _scholarly interest_ in the matter, if you will."

Merlin nodded.  
"That might be better. Thank you."

The nobleman stood, taking on the stance of a lecturer.

"Many years ago, before any of you were born, a prophecy was made. This prophecy foretold the coming of two individuals who would, together, bring peace to the entire land of Albion. The first, 'the Once and Future King' would be the greatest monarch the land would ever see. He would bring together the five kingdoms and unite them under his banner for a golden era of prosperity for all. The second, 'Emrys' would be the greatest warlock to walk the earth- magic incarnate in some interpretations. His destiny is to ensure the Once and Future King fulfills his role by protecting and guiding him. He will also be the one responsible for returning magic to Albion. Neither can succeed without the other."

Arthur turned to his friend, not sure whether to be impressed or incredulous.  
"Then you weren't kidding earlier, you actually _are-_"

"So they tell me. And _you're_ the Once and Future King."

The prince shook his head.  
"No, that can't be right. I'm not even king yet..."

"But you will be. You're already a greater man than your father, and you _will_ be a greater ruler."

Blue eyes glistened slightly.  
"Merlin-"

"Just accept the praise, you prat. I don't plan on repeating it any time soon."

Arthur smiled.  
"Idiot." Then he snorted. "Though the idea of _you_ guiding _me_ is just absurd. You could get lost going from your room to the kitchens."

"Says the man who doesn't even know where the kitchens _are._"

"It's hardly my business to know since _my servant_ is responsible for getting my meals to me."

"Well I've been rather _too_ successful in that." Said servant eyed his master's waistline.

"Merlin, if you're implying-"

"Oh I'm not implying _anything_, Sire." Tears were forming in his eyes from the suppressed laughter as Arthur's face began to resemble a tomato.

Merlin composed himself and turned back to their hosts.  
"So why bring this up now?"

The scholar took a steadying breath and flicked his gaze over to his son for a moment.

"I have a favor to ask: would you take Ardale with you when you leave?"


	28. Tiwaz

A/N: So, I was doing research for future chapters when it occurred to me that my internet searches for this fic and _Earnest Servant _have probably gotten me put on some sort of list for possible murderers or something. No one around me is allowed to die under suspicious circumstances or someone's going to be knocking on my door.

Also, I created a Facebook account to play the _Merlin_ game with so if anyone wants to play with me you can find the account under the pseudonym "Caldera Lake" with an avatar that says "Don't be Such a Clotpole". I'm also thinking about putting up little extras related to my fics on the page if people are interested (I already have the pics of my Sims up, for example, and I could also share spoilers/previews).

If this chapter confuses you: click back to chapter 14.

One more thing- Nance: Yes :)

* * *

"_Would you take Ardale with you when you leave?"_

"What?" Arthur asked, completely thrown by the unexpected request.

He looked over to Merlin, who seemed to be putting together some pieces, his gaze seeming far away.

_Blurry shapes shifted around him as he woke slowly.  
Blinking the sleep from his eyes he became aware of the sounds of violence.  
Screams of pain and shouted spells assaulted his sensitive ears as he surged to his feet...  
Glancing down he made sure it was still secured to his shirt and took off into the forest, intent on fulfilling the mission of his clan.  
He had only been running for a short time before they caught up to him..._

Shaking himself from the memory (vision?), the warlock whispered.  
"Tiwaz."

"What?" Arthur asked again, brow wrinkling in confusion.

Lord Rasner and his son looked at the warlock with interest.  
"You know something of this?" The noble inquired.

Fully pulling his attention back to the present, Merlin looked at the two men.  
"Do you happen to be descended from druids?"

"There has been some speculation about my family, but the relevant connection is far more recent. You see, my wife is a druid."

"_What?"_ This time Arthur all but leapt from his seat in disbelief.

"Oh sit down, Arthur. I hardly think he's talking about _m'lady._"

The lord looked a bit abashed.  
"Ah, yes, sorry about that. I should have said 'my _first_ wife'. Though she is still the only one in my heart."

Seeing the expressions on his guests' faces, he rushed to reassure them.  
"She is not dead- at least, I do not believe so." He sighed.  
"It is a bit of a long story, but I shall endeavor to explain the situation to you."

Arthur and Merlin made themselves comfortable as Lord Rasner told his tale.

Born the fifth son of a minor Camelotian noble family, few expectations had been placed on him in his youth and as such he had spent it mainly on scholarly pursuits.  
Of particular interest to him was the druid culture.

In the days before the purge, Lord Rasner had made regular visits to a druid settlement near his family's estate; getting to know the people and learning their ways.  
It was during these visits that he fell in love.

"Ellandra was so beautiful, so kind and gentle- and still is, I don't doubt."  
Hazel eyes misted slightly as he spoke of his love.

His parents allowed the marriage, assuming he would not be needed to secure the family's name since his eldest brother was betrothed to a Lady of higher status and the other three served as knights at court.

And so they lived happily for a few years, having Ardale together and living in the forest with her people- until the Great Purge began.

Arthur looked grief-stricken. More lives torn apart by his father's intolerance.  
Merlin shot him a comforting look and he relaxed slightly.

"There had long been a rumor that our family had been descended from druids, though it had never been proven- even our own personal records do not show any connection. But in those early days, a rumor was enough to condemn a man and all he loved."

The prince closed his eyes; resting his forehead against folded hands, elbows braced on his knees.  
He had known the time shortly after his birth had been dark, but it was an entirely different thing hearing about it from a victim.

"My three brothers at court- the knights-" tears threatened to fall from his eyes and he took a moment to compose himself.

"They were all killed. My eldest brother, I believe, was protected by his new family which was much higher on the social ladder than ours. My parents feared for me, and told me to flee. They arranged the marriage to Lady Camille thinking noble status in another kingdom would be sufficient protection for me... I couldn't believe they expected me to leave them, to leave my wife. But Ellandra, she had the power of a Seer. She rarely Saw anything of importance, but at that time she had a vision and told me- told me I had to leave." His eyes were sparkling with moisture once more and Merlin looked away to give the man a moment.

"She said I needed to be here, in Cenred's kingdom; and that she needed to stay. Said it had something to do with Emrys and destiny."

Now it was Merlin's turn to flinch.  
What kind of destiny was it that even ruined _other_ people's lives?

"I didn't want to, of course, but her visions are always correct. She promised me we would meet again- after Emrys fulfilled his role."

Merlin stared at the floor.  
_No pressure then..._

The Lord paused in front of the warlock, having been pacing for the past several moments.  
A warm hand on his shoulder caused Merlin to look up into the man's earnest eyes.

"I tell you this not to make you feel guilty, merely to inform you."

The servant nodded mutely.

"And so I left, taking Ardale with me. A short time later I was informed of my parents' demise and their wealth passed to me."  
He said the words matter-of-factly, though it was clear he still grieved.

"I have spent the time since in study- finding out all I could about Emrys and the prophecies surrounding him. I must say- I do not envy you."

Merlin gave him a sad half-smile.

"Everything I learned seemed to indicate that you would live and work in Camelot and, I confess, I was beginning to lose faith that I would ever meet you here in Cenred's kingdom. More than once I suspected Ellandra of inventing this vision of hers just to make sure we got out safely- my doubt was strong enough that I didn't tell Ardale about 'Emrys' even once he became old enough to understand..." he gazed at his son, silently communicating his apology; which was freely accepted without comment.

"I was born in this kingdom... in Ealdor, right on the border." Merlin confided, the corner of his lips still slightly upturned in a wry grin.

The lord looked startled for a moment, then gave a short bark of laughter.  
"So near, all this time... so near and yet so far..."  
He ran a hand down his face.

"But that's all in the past now."  
He sat down heavily in a chair between his son and Merlin.

"Ardale holds an important post among the druids- or rather, he was next in line for that post and we believe his time for succession is near or perhaps has already come. _That_, young prince, is what the device on his tunic means."  
He gestured to the upward-pointing arrow embroidered there.  
"It is a rune called 'tiwaz': signifying leadership and authority, honor, justice, and victory- among other things."

Rasner took to his feet once more, apparently restless now that all was out in the open.  
"I ask you again: will you take Ardale with you?"

Merlin looked over to the man who had been silent this entire time and saw the conflict in his eyes.  
It was clear he did not want to leave his father, and yet he longed to return to his childhood home and take up his rightful place there.

Looking to Arthur, he saw the prince give him a nod of assent.

"Of course we will."  
The warlock put a hand up to forestall Lord Rasner's thanks.  
"And I fear you are all too correct about the need for his presence."

The noble stopped in his tracks, paling slightly.  
"What do you mean?"

"Do you know the name of his predecessor?"

"Lochlin."

Merlin closed his eyes and blew out a loud breath before reopening them.  
"Lochlin is dead."


	29. Apart

A/N: Sorry this one took longer than usual- I wanted to write the second chapter of _Passing the Time _before coming back to _BT_ and I had difficulty with that piece, thus delaying this one. But, some fun stuff is going to happen in this round of the tournament (well, not for Merlin and Arthur...) and I'll try to get all relevant chapters up this weekend to make up for it. I know this one is super short, but I wanted to devote an entire chapter to each half of this round. So tell me: Arthur or Merlin first?

Nance, Irene, and Randomperson: Many thanks :)

* * *

Following the conclusion of their small conference with Lord Rasner and Ardale, Merlin and Arthur had returned to their rooms and begun settling in for the night.

Arthur had stared at the fire, pensive, as Merlin set to enchanting his own sword as he had the prince's.

The promised second bed, new boots, and chain mail had arrived and Arthur had taken to pestering Merlin to distract from his own dark thoughts; an endeavor that left both men in higher spirits as they lay down for the night.

That doesn't mean it wasn't all too soon before a servant was knocking respectfully on their door, breakfast in hand.

Having eaten and dressed, the two were hastily bundled out the door by an ill-tempered Lady Rasner and her usual entourage.

"I expect a good show today, what with the way my husband has been _spoiling_ you- and you had better not disappoint me!"

Merlin rolled his eyes at her forced air of superiority and watched as she was carried in front of them.

"Please tell me I'll have opportunity to punch her a few times before we leave, Merlin."  
Arthur said quietly, jaw clenched.

"Now, Arthur, that's not very chivalrous of you."  
The servant replied with a twinkle in his eye.

The prince snorted.  
"Merlin, if _that_ is a Lady, then _you_ are graceful."

The warlock pursed his lips and looked away just as Arthur tripped on seemingly nothing and sprawled in the dirt.

"_Mer_lin!"

"I don't know why you're yelling at me, Sire. That was clearly the result of your own _grace_."

The royal glared at him as he rose from the ground, angrily brushing himself off.  
He opened his mouth, ready to start shouting, but seemingly thought better of it and trudged the rest of the way to the arena in silence.

* * *

"Today we will be holding individual events!" The official announced to the contestants.  
"You and your partner will have to decide who will participate in which challenge. Today's choices are a logic challenge and an eating challenge. Take this moment to discuss amongst yourselves."

"Well, I think our choices are obvious enough." Merlin stated confidently.

"Yes, but I'm not sure how well you'll be able to do in an eating challenge, stick that you are..."

"Really, Arthur? Clearly you should be the one participating in the eating challenge."

"Says the sorcerer who lives in Camelot. Do you even know what logic _is_, Merlin?"

"I seem to recall a certain situation with two cups and possible poison..."

"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again?"

"You agreed, I simply didn't disagree aloud."

"Attention!" The official raised his arms and voice over the din of the crowd.  
"Those participating in the logic challenge should proceed through the gate on the right, all others to the left-hand gate."

Merlin took off before Arthur could protest, slipping through the right gate with a cheery "good luck!"

The prince cursed to himself before heading for the left gate, whispering his own "good luck" in return.


	30. Turn Left?

A/N: As per popular vote, Arthur first.  
(Though it occurred to me that the change in tone would probably be rather jarring if I did Merlin's first, so good job reviewers ^_~)

Man, chapter 30... I never thought this would be so long- it's already more than twice the length of _Patient Zero_ and I was expecting them to be similar. Though looking back, that expectation was not logical... *shrugs* Whatevs. It'll be as long as it needs to be.

My original ideas for this challenge were just too ridiculous, I hope this is better (and also that I will never again have a dream about Arthur eating his way through a literal mountain of mashed potatoes).

Advisory: I would highly recommend _not_ eating while reading this chapter.

* * *

Another man dressed in the now-familiar red robes of tournament officials awaited them in the arena, but the prince was too busy staring at the giant, luminous wall of magic separating the group from the other half where the logic challenge was presumably taking place.

_Merlin better not get himself killed._  
It would be just like him to die in such an innocent-sounding event.

The announcer began talking and Arthur dragged his attention back to the task at hand.

"This challenge includes several rounds. Each person will move up to the next round as soon as they complete their current stage. The last five people to complete the final round will fight a griffin for the right to remain in the Gauntlet."

_More like 'the right to live'..._ Arthur thought bitterly, noticing the looks of relish on the faces of the audience members.

"Round one: you must eat an entire goose!"  
The official waved his arm and a long table appeared, laden with said fowl.

The royal fought to keep a smug smile from his face. _Too easy._

Being a prince, Arthur had never needed to worry about eating as much as possible while food was available (as was the wont of those lower born), but that didn't mean he wasn't accustomed to eating a lot in one sitting. In fact, it hardly took any time at all before the blond was leaning back from his seat at the table and looking around for the next challenge.

The administrator appeared at his spot, looking him over to ensure he truly _had_ finished the whole bird before nodding. "Round two: gaia berries."  
The man gave an unsympathetic smile as a mound of the red orbs materialized on Arthur's plate, then shuffled off before he could be subjected to the stench.

The prince grimaced in anticipation.  
Gaia berries were not poisonous, but their taste was even worse than their smell- and that was saying something.

He looked to the man on his right, still struggling with his goose, and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially.  
"I have a proposition for you, friend."

The man stared back warily.

"If you eat these berries for me, I'll finish off your goose."

The other competitor looked like he was considering it for a moment, until he realized just what kind of berries he would be eating a double portion of.

"Oh no, I think I'd rather face the griffin."

Arthur scowled. He was inclined to agree, but his own pride wouldn't allow him to back down from the challenge.

"Time to see what you're made of, Arthur." He murmured to himself.  
Not the best pep talk ever, but that was what he had Merlin for (among other things).

Taking a handful of the odoriferous fruit he attempted to swallow it whole to avoid as much displeasure as possible.  
Unfortunately for him, this only resulted in the berries bursting at the very back of his mouth as he swallowed, the unsavory juice gushing forward to coat his tongue.

The prince gagged, clamping a hand over his mouth to avoid further embarrassing himself.

"Those who vomit will also face the griffin." The official stated helpfully.

_That would've been good to know before-hand._ Arthur thought resentfully.

He shuddered as he downed the juice, which tasted somewhat like something that had crawled into a pile of mouldering leaves and died before being combined with vinegar and left to ferment in a manure-lined cask for a few decades.

Looking at his plate he noticed that he had hardly made a dent in the mound and felt like weeping.  
_I really should have made Merlin do this. Peasants will eat anything, right?_

He could almost hear Merlin mocking his thoughts.  
"_Stop being such a girl- or are you admitting that I'm better than you?"_

"You wish." Arthur growled, grabbing another handful of berries.

* * *

It was now after noon and so far the prince had consumed an entire goose, a bush's worth of gaia berries, a dozen pickled eggs, and a plateful of something that had looked like a miniature version of the tentacles he'd been fighting off the day before.

Arthur cringed at the memory.  
The appendages had still been wriggling, the suckers had stuck to his teeth, and he was sure he could still feel them moving about in his stomach.

Now however, he was facing off against one of his rivals, both of them with a tankard of a strange off-white beverage.  
It looked like milk, but the scent was somewhat sweet and he detected a hint of brandy along with an odd sort of spicy odor.

The goal of this round was to match your opponent pint-for-pint until someone threw up.  
The victor would pass on to the next round while the hapless loser was left to try again, competing against someone else who had lost their first match.  
(Apparently the vomiting rule was suspended for this round, except in the case of whomever was left with no one to drink against.)

The royal eyed the liquid with apprehension, but nevertheless raised his cup in time with his opposite, pouring the mixture down his throat.

He almost spat it right back out.  
It was so... thick!

Smacking his lips a bit as he processed the new taste in his mouth, he found that it wasn't entirely unpleasant.  
Sweet, creamy, and incredibly rich- and he had been right about the brandy.  
He just couldn't get over how thick it was- like a custard that hadn't set.  
In fact, now that he thought about it, he recognized the raw eggs in the concoction (why he knew what raw eggs tasted like is a topic for another day).

But then the other man was taking his second swig and the prince rushed to catch up.

* * *

Not even half-way through the third pint Arthur was trying not to moan at the extreme upset in his stomach and both men's faces were turning a bit green.  
He could hear other contestants retching in the background and had to fight the urge to follow their example.

The prince reached determinedly for his cup and began raising it to his lips; the very sight of which was enough to send his opponent out of his chair, heaving in the dirt.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the sounds, not wanting to waste his effort thus far.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present and he opened his eyes to see the official gesturing him toward another table and waving him into a seat before whipping the cover off the steaming bowl set before his place.

"You have _got_ to be joking." He stated flatly, recognizing the 'meal'.

_I should have just told them I'd fight the griffin._


	31. Motif

A/N: 300 review mark reached on chapter 30- it's almost poetic :)  
So, one of my college dorms held an eggnog-drinking contest as part of its annual Christmas celebration.  
Participants were not allowed to drop out until they threw up, even the winner. Fun?  
Needless to say I never joined in this particular tradition.

I decided to split this challenge into multiple chapters- next part should be up later today :)  
Anybody else like cryptograms? If so, I encourage you to solve along with our hero.  
(I forgot to fill in the 'O's when I did it so my solving order is a bit off from my norm, but it still works)

Nance: That is a sentence I never expect to read again ;)

* * *

Once through the gate, Merlin allowed his smile to fall.  
He had a bad feeling about this challenge.

There was no time for brooding, however, as another man wearing that tauntingly familiar shade of red began speaking to the group.

"There will be several rounds to this phase of the Gauntlet. Each must be completed successfully before moving on to the next. Anyone who fails to complete the final challenge before nightfall will face a griffin before being allowed to pass on."

Merlin didn't think that particular choice of wording was coincidental.

"Everyone will face each stage alone- wouldn't want there to be any cheating, now would we?"  
The man spoke in a falsely-sweet voice as he smiled unpleasantly.

"Now, begin the first round: riddles!"

Each contestant was ushered into individual squares inscribed in the dirt and made to sit at a small table facing an official, the audience directly behind.

Once in place, the warlock noted that outside sounds had been cut off; though the audience seemed to remain able to hear everything judging by the way they seemed to be laughing at the person next to him who appeared to have already begun answering her first riddle.

The man in front of him spoke, drawing attention back to his own situation.  
"If there are three apples and you take away two, how many do you have?"

Merlin blinked. Really?  
Was the man simple, or was he just trying to lull him into a false sense of security?  
"Two."

The other nodded, then continued:  
"If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you haven't got me. What am I?"

The servant snorted. This definitely fell in his realm of expertise.  
"A secret"

"You can have me but cannot hold me; gain me and quickly lose me. If treated with care I can be great, and if betrayed I will break. What am I?"

Merlin closed his eyes.  
"Trust"

"What gets broken without being held?"

He was really beginning to see a theme here.  
"A promise"

"Feed me and I live, yet give me a drink and I die."

A rather uncomfortable theme...  
"Fire"

"Very good. Round two: solve this cryptogram."

The man placed a sheet of parchment on the table along with a quill and ink.  
Written thereupon was the following:

QIDS NEB NI LVKS, QIDS NEB NI GLSAN;

RHN NVDS UVJJ QLIU US AJUABQ UVJJ DSSN.

NEB AQ BIH DVXLN NI XHSQQ DB FADS,

V PEIDVQS BIH'JJ TFIU ULSF BIH V KI GJAVD.

ULI AD V?

Merlin stared at the strange scrawl in confusion.  
_What is this?_

He noticed an addition at the bottom of the page, "B=Y".

_What..._  
He pondered the puzzle for several moments; noting the repetition, punctuation, and what he assumed was some sort of hint in the form of a strange equation.

_Maybe..._  
Grabbing the quill and dipping it in the ink, Merlin wrote a 'Y' above every 'B' in the odd passage.

Yes, this seemed right.

_In that case, 'V' must be 'I'._  
He dutifully penned in the new letter before turning his attention to the last 'sentence'.

_It's a question, so the first word should be 'who', 'how', or 'why'... but I already know it doesn't end in 'y'... the sentence ends with 'I' so it should be 'who', right?"_  
He wrote that in along with all the other 'W's 'H's and 'O's.

_That means the other word must be 'am'... but that would mean all the 'A's are correct... oh well, let's try it._

That done, he surveyed what he had so far.

_Well, the only two-letter word starting with 'w' I know is 'we'._  
He replaced every 'S' with an 'E'.

_And if that's true, 'F' should be 'N'..._  
Merlin smiled, this was actually kind of fun.

_Judging by that apostrophe, 'J' is probably 'L'.What else?_

He looked at the broken words before him.

_ OME _ _Y _O HI_E, _OME _ _Y _O _HEA_;

_ _ _ _IME WILL _HOW WE ALWAY_ WILL MEE_.

_ _Y A_ YO_ MI_H_ _O _ _E_ _ MY NAME,

I _ _OMI_E YO_ 'LL _NOW WHEN YO_ I _O _LAIM.

WHO AM I?

Excited by how close he was, Merlin began guessing the words, filling in letters one after the other until what faced him was yet another riddle.

Some try to hide, some try to cheat;  
But time will show we always will meet.  
Try as you might to guess my name,  
I promise you'll know when you I do claim.  
Who am I?

He had spent a moment being amused that the word he puzzled over longest turned out to be 'guess', but any residual mirth quickly disappeared.  
The solution formed an unfortunate conclusion to the previously noted theme, but nevertheless he gave his answer in a steady voice.

"Death."


	32. Foiling

A/N: I always wondered why people didn't solve water puzzles this way- except in the cases where people tried to get smart and declared that the containers were shaped such that you could only measure the contents by using the other glasses.

And yes, they did use cup-measures in the middle-ages.  
I thought about using finger-breadths (or 'fingers' as they would have typically been referred to), but cups are simpler.

One more chapter to go before our daring duo reunites ;)

* * *

The official grinned wolfishly.  
"Right again. On to round three. Take this sack."

Merlin took hold of the large burlap bag as two buckets appeared on the table, one full of grain and the other of beans.

"You are a farmer going to market to sell your wares. You only have one sack, but you must transport both products without mixing them. Demonstrate how you would do this."

The peasant only had to consider this for a moment before pouring the beans into the bottom of the sack, tying a tight knot in the middle, then adding the grain on top.

"Good. Now, I wish to buy the beans, but I also only have one sack. It's much nicer than yours so I'm not going to trade with you. You may not use magic. How do you remedy this problem?"

Merlin reached for the bucket only to be reprimanded.

"You may only transfer the goods directly into my sack- I won't buy them else."

He only had to look at the sword on his hip for the deprecation to come.

"This is your only sack! You couldn't possibly cut it!"

Feeling a bit disgruntled, the servant took a deep breath to calm himself.  
_Okay... there's got to be a way to do this._

He spent several moments in thought, considering and rejecting various ideas (including casting a spell on his 'customer') before striking upon the solution.

"May I?" He asked with false politeness, holding out a hand for the other man's bag.

"Be careful with it."

"Of course."

Taking the sack, he poured the grain in and tied it shut with his unburdened sword belt.  
Turning it inside-out, he filled the new space with the beans and rested the full bag inside his own empty one before loosening the belt.

The grain fell neatly into the sack and Merlin grinned in triumph before handing the bag of beans to his 'client'.

"There you are, sir, pleasure doing business with you."  
His sarcasm wasn't _quite_ tangible.

The man looked slightly disappointed that the challenge had been solved so quickly.  
"Right, then. Round four: a water puzzle."

The props from the third stage vanished to be replaced by three cylindrical beakers, similar to those Merlin sometimes used when brewing potions with Gaius.  
A twinge of homesickness brought a slight smile to his face.

"This glass holds eight cups of water" he gestured to the largest glass- the only one that wasn't empty.  
"This one can hold five, and the last three. Using nothing but the glasses themselves, create two equal portions of water in less than eight pours. Once again, no magic may be used."

The servant grinned smugly.  
Now _this_ is something he does regularly.

Picking up the full glass, the physician's assistant carefully tipped it over the five-cup glass until the water formed a perfect diagonal connecting the lip to the opposite edge of the bottom.

"There you are, two four-cup portions."  
_As if I needed eight pours..._

The official glared at him suspiciously and pulled out another glass, presumably a four-cup measure so he could verify the results.  
Having checked and therefor confirmed Merlin's success the man angrily tossed the water out.

"Acceptable. Round five: cups and balls."

The glasses were switched out for opaque cups turned bottom-up on the table, each of the four labeled as follows: one or four; two or four; two or three; one or two.

Clearly explanation was in order.

"Each cup conceals the same number of balls and each cup presents a possibility for the number underneath. Only one of these is correct. Tell me which mug is accurate, and how many balls are beneath each. No magic, no peeking!"

It was equally obvious the official didn't trust him.

_Well, if only one statement is correct it has to be the third one since there's no conflict with the number three..._

"There are three balls under each cup. The third statement is the true one."

His opposite seemed to be turning slightly purple.  
"Correct." He ground out grudgingly, then chuckled darkly and put on a gleeful grin.  
"That means you're ready for the final round: poison and counter-poison."

_And _this_ is why I had such a bad feeling about this round._


	33. Poison and Counter-Poison

A/N: Updating frenzy!  
I've noticed that my naming sense has become more and more convoluted. Thankfully I can sometimes rein myself in when it gets really out of hand, otherwise this chapter probably would've been titled "Spy vs. Spy". It doesn't really make sense to me either.

Randomperson: Thanks :) Funny? *goes back to look* Huh. I suppose so.

Irene: Nope, sorry. Nothing against our valiant High King, but I just don't like him as much as Merlin. *to a sniffly Arthur* You're just gonna have to deal with it blondie, stop being such a girl. Besides, I don't want to be responsible for anyone barfing all over their computer/keyboard/nearby person or object.

Marmar: Aww, thanks so much- that makes me especially happy :D

Nance: Always interesting to see what is considered difficult from one person to the next!

Merkat24: Thank you very much :)

I'm pretty sure all you people are intelligent folks, but just in case: don't try this at home kids!  
I have researched each substance and some of them actually are legitimately used to treat one another, but that doesn't mean you should go out and test it. Seriously. On to the whump (mwahaha)!

* * *

The table now held five vials in a rack. If it weren't for the name of the round, they would be completely unremarkable; but as it was Merlin's eye immediately went to the blue liquid in the central glass. _Aconite._

"All of the vials must be drunk in their entirety, they will refill automatically once emptied so you may choose to drink any of them more than once. This task may not be forfeited- if you do not choose the order in which to drink, I will decide on your behalf. No magic may be used, of course."

The tone was much more malicious than Merlin felt was justified, but the fact that he was about to be forced to drink a lethal dose of aconite made everything else pale in comparison.

Prying his gaze away from the blue vial of death he began scrutinizing the others.

A clear potion with some white particulate in the bottom- _digitalin_.  
A dark tincture with a slightly acrid scent- _belladonna._  
A reddish brown substance that smelled somewhat like vanilla- _morphia._

The last, a faintly pink liquid with a hint of floral scent, was worrisome as he had no idea what it was.

It was at this point the physician's ward realized the official had been reciting a riddle during his distraction, just now finishing the speech.

"You will have until nightfall to complete the challenge. If you are not finished by then I will administer the remaining poisons as I see fit."

Merlin was pretty confident the official had made up that rule himself out of spite.

_I probably should have just skipped right to the griffin. Well, too late for that now._

"Um, sorry, but could you repeat what you just said?"

"You have until nightfall-"

"Before that."

The other man leered at him.  
"No."

_Great. No help for it, I'll just have to figure it out on my own._

He curled a hand around the unidentified vial, sensing the nature of the fluid within.  
_This doesn't count as magic, right?_  
After all, it didn't even make his eyes glow.

_It's a sedative... feels... there's something familiar about it..._  
Suddenly the name came to him.  
_Purple heart_

He had seen it mentioned in one of Gaius' books- the physician's own bottle of it left to collect dust in the back of a cupboard.  
Purple heart had a lot of beneficial effects, but just as many undesirable ones.

_Alright, what do I have here... aconite, digitalin, morphia, and purple heart are all depressants... belladonna is the only stimulant. This isn't looking good._

Merlin was _exceedingly_ grateful that he had managed to prevent Arthur from facing this challenge.  
_Then again, he'd probably get stuck on the first round and wind up having to fight the griffin._

The real problem was the delirium digitalin and belladonna tended to cause- not to mention the state of hypnosis purple heart tended to incite.

_At least aconite leaves one's intelligence intact- until you pass out and die, that is._

He shook himself.

_Focus, Merlin, this is going to be a dangerous dance and you need to work this out _before_ you start to think you're flying through a rainbow on a winged unicorn._

Arthur's voice cropped up then, mocking him for such girlish imaginings.

_Shut up, clotpole, I'm trying to concentrate._

Mentally comparing the various symptoms, he was rather displeased at the rather high number of aftereffects he would have to suffer through.  
But as long as he could successfully manage his heart rate he should survive- _should._

_Here goes nothing_.

Merlin grabbed the aconite and downed it one go, not bothering to watch as it slowly refilled itself.

The problem with this whole thing was that he had to wait until he felt each poison taking effect before he could drink the next to ensure they would hit his body in the correct order- not a pleasant experience.

Mouth and throat tingling, limbs beginning to resist movement, he reached for the belladonna before the vomiting could hit (rather difficult to drink when one's stomach is intent on emptying itself).

Half of the belladonna swallowed down, he waited until his heart sped up and the world started to look over-bright before extending a trembling hand for the digitalin.

The warlock could feel his stomach trying to rebel and willed it to hold off as his tremors increased in the wake of the digitalin.  
He hadn't properly figured that particular symptom into his calculations and found himself cursing when he spilled the purple heart and had to wait for it to replenish.

Merlin fought against his own body and mind, which was trying to tell him that Arthur (with donkey ears) was dancing on top of the table and the world really wasn't as serious as he was making it out to be- in fact, why not join him? If he could find his feet, that is. Actually, blacking out was also sounding attractive. Just a little nap...

_Focus._ He swallowed the pink liquid and began inching toward the other half of the belladonna, wary of illusory-Arthur's stomping boots.

_Hurry._ His impaired body was beginning to give in to the paralyzing effect of the aconite and moved painfully slowly. _Come on, you're almost there._

Belladonna finished off, only the morphia was left; unfortunately, he was no longer certain which vial he was supposed to be drinking.

The world had become a rather blurry, colorful place and he couldn't quite convince himself this was a bad thing- until he fell off the stool.  
The shock sobered him just enough to get his body back up and grab the vial at the end of the rack.

_This better be it._

He tossed his head back and swallowed.


	34. Carried Again

A/N: So... Hi. I prostrate myself before you and apologize profusely- especially since I'm returning with such a short and uninteresting chapter (but the next should be up soon!)

I was kidnapped by a particularly violent gang of plot bunnies- they stuffed me in a hutch and only fed me lettuce and water (plus the occasional baby carrot when I finished a chapter of their story).

I'm not sure whether to tell you to read my new story (Ring of Ice) or avoid it- it's _very_ different from my other pieces. Oh, I also started some ridiculous drabble-like things mostly as an April Fool's 'present'- and because the very idea of them amused me ("Die! Die! Die!" and "I Saw What You Did There"). I very briefly considered posting an author's note on all my fics April 1st saying I was abandoning my current pieces- but that would have been cruel and not in the least funny (especially since I wouldn't be able to see your faces as you read). Just so you know, I will _never_ abandon my work- except maybe "About Coins", but that one is technically complete as-is and I really only started it to work out of a small bit of writer's block- which I do by forcing myself to write things that don't appeal to me as a sort of punishment, like I'm telling my brain 'don't want to write? Well in that case you're putting out _this_ crap until you snap out of it. (The problem with "About Coins" is that it features Merlin and Arthur in hostile disagreement- or rather, it would have if my brain hadn't immediately given in and shaped up ;).)

Well that was long... *shrugs* whatevs

Irene: That makes me think of a snippet from season one's video diaries where Bradley complains about how everyone fawns over Colin while he is left to fend for himself :) And no, I haven't seen "Across the Universe".

Nance: Haha! Misleading phrasing strikes again!

Thanks for all the reviews/PMs during my 'absence'- even the surly ones ;)

One last thing- I was thinking of starting a Twitter account to let you all know when I'm writing what chapters, when/why they're being delayed, etc. Would any of you actually use that if I did? Let me know in a review/PM (please and thank you ^_^).

* * *

Arthur clamped his arm and opposite hand against his side to brace the broken ribs as the guards hustled him into the holding cells.

"His partner's already here- back corner." The captain gestured with his chin in a bored manner, quickly returning his attention to the dice game he was playing.

The prince settled gratefully onto the cot and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the dungeon.  
"You'll never guess what I've been through, Merlin- they had _rat stew_. I can't believe anyone else would even _think_ of such an abomination... Merlin?"

The guard had said his servant was already here, so why was he so quiet?  
Shapes were beginning to become clearer and Arthur looked to the other cot- no warlock there.

"Merlin?"

It was then that he noticed the crumpled heap of limbs on the ground in the back of the cell, pallid skin seeming to glow faintly in the torchlight.

"Merlin!"

He moved quickly to his friend's side- a bit too quickly, his ribs protested.

The royal was relieved to find the man was only sleeping and didn't appear to be wounded anywhere, but he didn't wake despite Arthur's attempts and his breathing was worryingly slow.

The snake/neckerchief Arthur had nearly forgotten about was coiled loosely by the warlock's head, nudging his cheek in loving concern, before being upset by the prince's presence. Flicking its tongue out disapprovingly, the reptile returned to its master's neck to once again take on the appearance of cloth.

Carefully rearranging the servant's gangly limbs from the awkward position they'd obtained when the man had been tossed dispassionately to the ground, the warrior lifted his friend and placed him on the meager bed.

His skin was hot and slightly flushed, but it didn't seem like a regular fever- for one thing, there wasn't a drop of sweat to be seen.  
Arthur lowered an ear to his companion's chest and frowned at the erratic beating there.

"What happened, Merlin?" He whispered, brow furrowed in concern.

The squealing of hinges drew his attention to the cell entrance where Ardale was standing, two of Rasner's guard standing behind him with a stretcher.

The young noble looked devastated.

"Ardale, what-?"

"I watched him this afternoon... we have to get him out of here quickly."

Arthur nodded, stepping out of the way to reluctantly allow the other men to secure Merlin on the litter.

Stepping into the waning sunlight, the prince watched his friend start to twitch and mumble in his sleep.  
Without a word he slipped his hand around the other man's reassuringly.

"What happened to him?" He asked, not looking away from Merlin's face.

"Poison" Ardale said somberly "more than one, actually."

The blond closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.  
_That_ brought back unpleasant memories.

He was about to speak again when the mumbling intensified and a jolt of power raced up his arm from their connected hands.

Arthur gasped and doubled over as his ribs were wrenched back into place.

Ardale was at his side in an instant.  
"Are you alright, what happened?"

The royal could only nod at first, regaining his breath before straightening.  
"Yes, I'm fine. It seems _Mer_lin just healed me."

The other man frowned, not having noticed the prince's injury in his concern over Emrys.

Arthur, however, was too busy watching the invalid to notice.  
He was moving a bit more vigorously now, making the stretcher sway as the bearers struggled to keep it level, and light shone faintly through his closed eyelids.

Ardale and Arthur observed him closely.

The prince grasped one side of the framework to steady it as the nobleman did likewise on the other side.

"You'd better be saving yourself, Merlin."


	35. Break for Rain

A/N: I set up a twitter account- Caldera32 at CalderaIsland. Follow or don't, I'll be updating it with progress reports and whatnot.

Nance: Just a bit of a time-skip, it'll be explained next chapter :) As for the cells- contestants are held in the anti-magic arena dungeons until both partners are finished competing, at which point they can be claimed by their 'sponsors'. Sorry that was unclear, didn't even occur to me that I should explain that.

* * *

Merlin woke late that evening.

Lord Rasner had summoned a healer only to be told there was nothing to do but wait it out.

And wait Arthur had, perched tensely on a stool next to Merlin's bed.  
He'd nearly physically thrown out the timid servant who had offered him something to eat (as if he would be able to stomach _anything_ after the events of the day) and refused any company as he stood vigil over his friend.

The moment those blue eyes had hesitantly cracked open Arthur had his arms wrapped around the other man.

"Arthur?"

The voice was weak and rough, but it was music to Arthur's ears.

"Here." The prince drew back to offer him a cup of water, which the man reached for and missed.

"Sorry, my fishon sa bidoff ye'..." He slurred, frowning.

"Sounds like _you're_ 'a bit off yet'." Arthur tried to make light as he helped his friend drink.

"Better 'an 'spected. Thirsty though..." he pressed his lids shut as the room tilted.  
"Dizzy too."

The royal nodded, refilling the goblet and putting it to the servant's lips again.  
"Do you want anything to eat?"

Even mentioning it made Arthur's stomach revolt.

"No, won' 'ave any appetite fer 'while..."

"Is there _any_thing you need, Merlin? Anything that can help you?"

The warlock groaned slightly, massaging his throat.  
"Thyme tea... wif honey."

"Of course. Anything else?"

"Jus' need sleep... 'll b'fine by mernin'..."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief.  
"Good. That's good."

Merlin hummed in response, already half-asleep once more.

A thought occurred to the prince then and he chuckled humorlessly.

The warlock peeked out of one eye.  
"Whassit?"

"I thought you said _you'd_ be carrying _me_ next?"

Merlin pretended he was already sleeping.

* * *

After drinking the better part of a pot of honey-dosed thyme tea, Merlin had slept peacefully through the night, Arthur doing likewise after helping his friend with the liquid.

The morning dawned dark and stormy, bringing with it the announcement that events had been canceled for the day.

Although the warlock had, in fact, been completely recovered upon waking he was still grateful for the respite. Information and events had become all jumbled up in his head and he could really use the time to untangle it all- particularly the great hunk of knowledge 'gifted' him about the Fibula of Nytnes.

There were so many rituals and ceremonies associated with its upkeep he couldn't imagine how anyone could actually _use_ the thing, though it had once been a regular fixture in the magical community.

Settling into a generously padded chair in Lord Rasner's library, Merlin began to sift through the various facts he'd collected thus far.

From what he could discern, Lochlin was still the official owner of the brooch.  
Kapner had done the transferal correctly, but he had ignored the practices necessary to win its allegiance and therefor lost any claim he had on it.

That being the case, whomever had taken it next had no power over it whatsoever.

Which was good for Merlin as it meant he need not observe any special method of acceptance once he won the thing and could perform the transfer ceremony at his leisure- or not at all, as he would prefer. He would much rather someone else have the responsibility of looking after the thing- especially since that person was likely to be Ardale.

The purpose of his druidic post had not been revealed during their discussion, but considering he was to replace Lochlin it was likely he was the proper caretaker of the relic.

Matters of the fibula straightened out for the time being, the warlock's thoughts turned to his next worry- the final event.

He had asked Lord Rasner and Ardale about it only to find they had never before observed the competition and had avoided any discussion of it as much as possible.  
The Lady Rasner would know, undoubtedly, but Merlin doubted she would answer honestly even if he had been willing to ask her.

Based on hints and rumors he was fairly certain he already knew what it would be, especially when one took Jazar's taunting into account.  
If his suspicions were correct- and he feared they were- an airtight plan was necessary.

Merlin spent the rest of the afternoon scheming.

* * *

Arthur peered into the library, his eyes moving to the chair where Merlin appeared to be meditating.  
He watched for a few moments, simply relieved to see the man healthy again, then continued on his own errand.

Traveling to the dining room, he found Lord Rasner and son seated in front of the hearth, the Lady thankfully absent.

"Lord Rasner.." He began hesitantly.

"Please, call me Gareth." The man said magnanimously.

"Gareth... I- I wanted to apologize on behalf of my father and myself. What your family went through-"

The lord waved away the prince's apologies.  
"Nonsense, Sire-"

"Arthur, please."

Gareth tipped his head in assent.  
"Arthur, what happened was _not_ your fault. Granted, I do not know what you may have done in the time since- but I also do not blame you. I will accept your sentiments, but you mustn't feel guilty for things that are beyond your influence."

"But-"

"No, Arthur, I won't be changing my mind on this matter so you had best let it drop."

The prince looked over to Ardale, only to see agreement in his eyes.

He sighed in defeat and relief, bowing his head slightly.  
"Thank you."

Lord Rasner clapped him on the back and began steering him to a chair.  
"Good, good. Now, have a sit with us- would you like some tea?"

Arthur spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with the two men about druid customs and the nature of magic along with learning more details of the prophecies surrounding himself and 'Emrys'.

It was all more than a little bit overwhelming, leaving him with one thought over the rest:

_We've got a lot of work to do, Merlin._


	36. Facing the Facts

A/N: In the semi-immortal words of Bradley James "Just reached 100,000 followers. That's about 99,999 more than my tweeting prowess deserves."  
Just replace the numbers with '2' and you'll have my new twitter account :) Yeah, I'm basically 'talking' to myself every time I tweet.

*Stares at review count* 400?! I'll try my best to live up to such great support :)

Irene: Haha... well, it's hardly the same sort of tea, but I can totally see it

Nance: Yes, it will be very... exciting :D

Randomperson & TRC: Wait no more! (Thanks for the reviews ^_^)

If I missed replying to anyone's reviews I apologize, but know I love you anyway!

* * *

Tentative plan set in his mind, Merlin went to find Arthur, who was still in conversation with their hosts.

He cleared his throat to gain attention and suddenly felt a bit timid, looking down at his new boots as he made his request.  
"Ah, Arthur, could we... talk a bit?"

Confused at his friend's sudden shyness, the royal agreed and excused himself.

Once they were out of earshot, Arthur grabbed the warlock's elbow and spun him around so they were face-to-face.

"What's this about, Merlin?"

"Ah, um... well, first off I wanted to ask you what happened in your challenge today."

They both knew he was stalling, but it was something that needed telling regardless.

The prince listed the various things he had been forced to eat, leaving out just how close he was to throwing up simply talking about it.  
Merlin snorted when he got to the rat stew, trying to hold in his amusement- though his twinkling eyes gave it away.

"Well now I know why you look even bigger than usual. Good thing they gave you a new belt- I don't think your old one had enough leather left for more holes."

He smirked and the blond cuffed him before continuing his report.

"When they brought out that rat stew it... ah, I noticed how far behind a lot of the other competitors were and realized they wouldn't be able to defeat the griffin without help so I valiantly abstained from finishing."

Truthfully, it had simply been the last straw. There was _no way_ he was _ever_ eating rat stew again.

"A griffin?" The warlock grabbed Arthur's shoulders and studied him worriedly.  
"You weren't wounded?" He remembered how close the prince had come to dying the last time a griffin was involved.

The blond looked at him askance.  
"I was... another contestant was supposed to distract the beast while I stabbed it, but he ran off and I caught a stray swipe, broke a few ribs... but Merlin, you already healed those- don't you remember?"

His forehead crinkled in confusion.  
"When?"

"On the way back from the arena. You were pretty out of it, but surely you must have known what you were doing?"

The warlock shook his head.  
"No, but then it wouldn't be the first time my magic helped you out with myself none the wiser; that's a tale for another time, however."

It was clear he wouldn't be saying any more on the matter so the royal concluded his own narration.  
"Right. So after that the beast reared up and I chucked my sword at it- went right through its heart. Now, what happened to leave you in such a state?"

Merlin shuffled his feet and gave a short explanation of the riddles, glossing over the details of the poisons and their effects.

Arthur watched him carefully.  
"You knew that something was going to happen."

"I think it's safe to assume that 'something' is going to happen in all of these rounds, Arthur."

"No, you had one of your 'funny feelings' again, didn't you?"

The warlock considered lying, but decided it was pointless.  
"Yes, I did."

The prince looked away from him then, exasperated and more than a bit angry.  
"You've got to stop doing that Merlin- just taking all the danger onto yourself."

A dark eyebrow arched. _Time for some deflection._  
"And how do you think you would have survived that, Arthur? I didn't make any mistakes and still I needed my magic to recover in time. Though, frankly, I doubt you would have made it that far."

The blond scoffed.  
"Please, how hard could it have been? I'm not an idiot, you know."

"Alright, tell me: if there are three apples and you take away two, how many do you have?"

"Merlin, I'm the prince, all of the apples in Camelot are mine."

Blue eyes rolled.  
"Congratulations, _Sire_, only the first riddle and you've already failed."

"That was a riddle? Wait... well, it's simple arithmetic- there are three, take away two and clearly I have one. See? Easy."

"You're still wrong Arthur."

"What? But..."

"Nevermind that for now. I called you out because, ah... I wanted... I- well, I'm worried..."  
The servant trailed off and was avoiding Arthur's eyes again.

"About what?"

"What if they split us up again? What if you have to face magic and I'm not there to protect you?"

"Come now, Merlin, I've fought magic on my own plenty of times before."

The warlock gave him a wry grin.  
"No, you haven't."

"And what is _that_ supposed to- oh. Really, Merlin? Can I not have pride in _any_ of my achievements- or should I just call them _your_ achievements?"

"Not at all, Sire. I didn't do _all_ of the work, after all."  
_Not _every_ time, at least..._

Arthur threw up his hands in surrender.  
"Right, _fine_. So, I assume you have some idea of what to do about this?"

"Yes, I thought... I thought maybe I could... train you?"  
Merlin bit his lip and seemed to shrink away slightly as if expecting Arthur to throw something at him.

The knight stared at him for a moment, then his eyes narrowed and he nodded.  
"That might be a good idea- but don't let it go to your head."

The warlock let out the breath he had been holding and visibly relaxed, a grin spreading across his face.  
"Don't worry, _Sire_. Your girth will always dwarf my ego."


	37. Roll in the Hay

A/N: I, being the foolish mortal that I am, just put most of my blankets away a couple days ago and stowed my space heater thinking the warm weather was finally here to stay- thus I woke up freezing under my single quilt this morning. What was I thinking?!

This chapter: more 'peasant humor'.

Many thanks go out to Dawnfire11 who has been reviewing each chapter while catching up with this story (Thank you thank you- whenever you get to this chapter!)

* * *

The two men took up positions outside of Rasner's manor, the rain having thankfully let up shortly after lunch time.  
Merlin made sure Arthur was directly in front of a convenient haystack.

"Ready?" Merlin asked, arms relaxed at his sides.

"I was born ready, _Mer_lin."

The warlock rolled his eyes.  
"Alright, most sorcerers will only have an advantage while they can make ranged attacks. They're used to winning fights with magic so they'll be physically weaker than conventional warriors."

The prince nodded, he was already well aware of these facts- and they were certainly true of Merlin.

"Your best bet is to rush them and hope you can get in an attack before they recite a spell. Go ahead and try."

The blond hesitated.  
"I don't want to hurt you, Merlin..."

"You've never seemed to mind that before." The servant grinned at him "besides- you won't. Now come."

Slightly annoyed at the other man's cockiness, Arthur did just that- sprinting forward only to have his opponent throw up a hand and yell **"********Ástríce!****"**

The knight flew backward to land in the haystack, grumbling to himself while he crawled out.

"Too slow, Arthur."  
He wasn't _quite _laughing at his future sovereign.

The royal just glared at him.

"Right. That's a very basic spell. A lot of the sorcerers here can probably do it without even speaking, though it will likely be weaker if they don't say it aloud. Come again and I'll show you."

A bit reluctant, the prince charged once more- trying to be faster.

This time Merlin's arm snapped up and the brief flash of his eyes was all the warning Arthur got before he sailed into the haystack once more.

He groaned.  
"I fail to see how this is helping me, _Mer_lin."

The servant chuckled.  
"Well then, allow me to give you some pointers."

He had sauntered up to the stack and offered his hand, helping to pull his friend up and starting to pick the grassy strands out from between the chain mail links.

"First, sorcerers direct spells with their eyes and hands- if you can blind them or at least stay out of sight it will be in your favor. When a spell comes from the palm it usually travels in either a straight line or a cone shape. We'll practice and I'll give you advice until you can recognize and avoid the most common ones. Sound good?"

He asked, now finished with his automatic straightening of the prince's armor.

Arthur huffed.  
"You understand that none of this will ever be mentioned again?"

"Of course, Sire."

* * *

The lessons had continued for a couple of hours, ultimately ending in Arthur dragging Merlin down into the completely destroyed haystack where they had wrestled until they both were too weak with laughter to move.

The swordsman had made great progress- once or twice managing to get close enough that the warlock had slowed time to escape (though he certainly wouldn't admit that bit to his master). That didn't mean he wasn't going to cover Arthur's mail in protective enchantments until they practically _glowed_ with magic.

The prince had called a servant and requested two baths be drawn as they hauled themselves up and trudged back inside.  
The servant had raised an eyebrow at their location and disheveled appearance, but made no comment.

No doubt the rumors about them would be spreading like wildfire before dinner even hit the table, though Merlin waited until they were both naked in their tubs (a privacy screen having been thoughtfully erected between the two basins) before pointing that out to Arthur.

He grinned at the choking noise coming from the prince's side and looked around the screen to see the man had gone Camelot red and sunk down so the water was all the way up to his eyes, bubbles rising from the water being the only sign of his disgruntled mutterings.

Dinner itself was a quick affair as both Merlin and Arthur were still rather short on appetite and no one was keen on sitting with Lady Rasner any longer than necessary; the woman was in a particularly foul mood since she hadn't had the games to entertain her for the day.

Fatigued from training and the accumulation of the previous days' events, the competitors had retired immediately after finishing their meals.  
Few words were exchanged before they sank gratefully into their beds.

Both fell asleep quickly but Arthur was soon woken by a nightmare and had to get up to reassure himself that Merlin had, in fact, survived his poisoning.

Sensing eyes upon him, the warlock woke- Arthur pretended to be pacing.

"Can't sleep?"

"Just thinking- don't worry about it."

Rolling his eyes, _(as if I can't tell when you're upset about something- clotpole)_ the servant lifted the edge of his blankets and patted his mattress, a coy smile playing on his lips.

"We can share if it'll make you feel better."

Arthur threw a pillow at him.

"Why, thank you Sire!"  
The servant snuggled into the extra cushion.

"I'm going to need that back Merlin."

Obnoxious snoring was his only answer.


	38. Ready

A/N: Just a little bridge chapter, hopefully the next will be up today though I'm feeling a bit un-motivated.  
Also, there was a quick chapter of _Passing the Time_ falling at the end of the last chapter, if anyone's interested.

Re-edited _Patient Zero_ the other day, just 'cuz I could, so if you ever feel like (re-)reading it... it's new and improved.  
Nothing anyone's likely to notice on a second go-through, but I feel better about it now.  
It's amazing how much one's writing style can change in just a few months of regular practice.

* * *

Merlin rolled out of his bed at first light, feeling rested and at full strength for the first time in weeks.  
_At least _some_thing good's come of this little diversion..._

Looking over to where Arthur was still curled up in bed, he snorted at the sight of the prince snoring with one of his blankets pressed into service as a head-rest.

Throwing the man's pillow back at him, he pulled the curtains open as if they were back in Camelot.  
"Rise and shine, Sire! Time to face our deaths once more!"

If the blond had been more conscious he would have been utterly disgusted at the cheer in those words.  
Instead he just cuddled with his makeshift pillow, grunting "go 'way Merlin".

A light knock sounded at the door and the warlock grinned.  
"More breakfast for me then!"

He let the servant in and helped with the trays of food before thanking and dismissing the boy.

"Would you look at this- bacon!"  
Merlin exclaimed with exaggerated wonder, relishing the thick rasher of meat as his fingers picked through the fruit and cheese that had also been brought.

If the servant hadn't known better he'd have thought his master teleported to the table, the man appeared so quickly.

"Mmmph. Why do I not get breakfasts like this at home, _Mer_lin?"  
The royal's voice was muffled as he spoke around the food he was cramming into his mouth.

"I see you've gotten your appetite back, _Sire_."  
Was the cheeky response.

Arthur looked up at him, eyes narrowed.  
"Are you-"

"Yes, I'm calling you fat."

"_Mer_lin..."

"Better keep eating, we'll have to leave soon."

The blond wanted to argue, if only to be contrary, perhaps pointing out that Merlin had called him fat and then immediately urged him to eat more; but ultimately decided that getting more food in his stomach took priority.

He was standing in his chain mail, Merlin chanting over it until it gleamed a faint gold, when Ardale arrived to escort them.

"Ready for another day?"  
He asked, his smile conflicted.

"Oh, Arthur was _born_ ready."  
The warlock couldn't resist the jibe- not that he tried.

Having become used to their relationship, the young noble mostly ignored the remark and the prince's glare.

"Then we'd better get going."

* * *

There were noticeably fewer pairs milling about the common room this time and Merlin suspected that several participants had been unable to survive the previous round's poisons. He frowned in regret.

He had wasted several moments the previous day brooding over how he could have helped the other contestants and had come up empty-handed (aside from blowing the whole arena apart and staging a massive break-out).

That didn't keep him from feeling bad about the situation.

In a strange fit of understanding, Arthur discerned his mood and the reason for it- placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.  
Merlin nodded in thanks, quirking a small smile before turning his attention to the blue-robed man now speaking to them.

_Are the officials color-coded as well?_

The aged man explained that the next round would have two parts: first, an obstacle course that would determine the order in which pairs faced the second round- scouring a mysterious old ruin for some hidden object.

As per usual, Merlin assumed there was more to it all than was presented.

"This event will continue until all pairs have either completed their tasks or perished- those finishing earlier will be obliged to remain in the arena dungeons until such time as the round ends."

_Well _that's_ hardly fair..._  
He _was not_ looking forward to spending any amount of time in those cursed cells.

Little help for it now, however, as the gate was being opened and the contestants forced out into the arena.

The two stared up at the stands packed with the roaring audience- mostly nobles with their attendants.

"Well, let's not leave our adoring public waiting."  
Arthur said, flashing Merlin a bright grin as they strode forward.


	39. Impediments

A/N: Anyone else remember that old Nickelodeon show "Legends of the Hidden Temple"? :)

Marmar: Sorry for misleading you- this isn't the last challenge, though it is the last one of this type. I seem to have created a false impression with Merlin's planning session.

Irene: Did you miss chapter 37? That's where the training took place.

Nance: Nah, the object to-be-retrieved doesn't really matter- just like the points on "Whose Line is it Anyway?"

Aima: Thank you! *presents with virtual trophy of riddle-solving prowess*

* * *

"Should we try to finish last?"

Merlin looked over at Arthur, not believing the words he was hearing.  
The Champion of Camelot, proposing they intentionally perform poorly?

"What? Why?"

The prince rolled his eyes.  
"So you have less time to spend in that cursed dungeon, _idiot_."

The warlock gave him a small smile.  
"No reason to hold back on my account, _clotpole_."

They jostled each other companionably.

"Just do your best, and I'll do mine."

The blond eyed him, weighing the benefits of continued banter over sincerity.

"So I'll be carrying you again, then?"

"Prat."

The back-and-forth would have continued had a pair of guards not stepped forward and ushered them into place at the starting line, nothing more than the lip before a great misty chasm with no visible way of crossing.

"Start!"

The competitors looked at the obstruction and each other in confusion.

Merlin stepped closer to the edge, waving aside some of the opaque fog.  
"It's filled with water, look, there's some sort of bridge."

'Bridge' was a rather strong word for the single plank that floated atop the liquid.

"Merlin, if you think for a moment that _that-_"

"Keep your trousers on, Arthur. I'll take care of this."

Holding a hand over the water he spoke a quick incantation.  
The air below his palm began to grow increasingly colder as his partner looked on in anticipation.

"Well?"

"Be patient."

It would have gone considerably faster had he put his hand _in_ the water, but he certainly didn't want to assume it would be safe to do so.

Ice crystals began to form on the surface, their growth accelerating until the board was firmly frozen in place.

"After you, m'lord." Merlin bowed mockingly.

Arthur gave him a sour look before tentatively stepping out onto the 'bridge', moving more confidently once it failed to sink immediately.

"Surely you can go faster than _that_."

"So help me, Merlin, if we weren't fighting for our lives here I'd-"

"What, have me put in the stocks- or muck out your stables maybe?"

The prince grit his teeth.  
"Shut up Merlin."

Having nothing more to say, the servant began whistling obnoxiously just to be prove he wasn't intimidated.

Arthur shook his head and did his best to ignore it, sighing in relief as he reached solid ground.

"Now _what_ is _this?_"

Before them was a steep incline, a slow but steady current of water running down two smooth channels bordered by rough rock walls.

Another official in blue walked up to them, snapping a pair of shackles around their wrists, connecting one man to the other with a short length of chain.

"You must climb up the chutes side-by-side, be aware that removal of these shackles by any but another official will result in the harshest of penalties."

_Right. Death then._  
Merlin thought sardonically.

The pair looked at each other, then the shackles.

"I don't suppose you know any levitation spells."

"None that would be able to lift _your_ bulk."

"This is hardly the time, Merlin."

"I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree on that point."

Other competitors had begun crossing Merlin's ice bridge and were receiving their own shackles, leaving a small group contemplating the obstacle.  
One intrepid pair started right in, each person attempting to climb their chute head-first, to rather lackluster results.

Apparently the water on the flat rock made it too slippery to gain purchase as the first team failed to get more than a few feet off the ground before falling back to earth- though that didn't stop from trying the same thing again.

"So what are we going to do about this? _Your_ climbing skills are hardly up to snuff without all this extra trouble."

Ignoring the insult, Merlin cocked his head at the hill and contemplated it for a short time before smiling in triumph.

"Simple- they're going about it backwards."

"How so?"

"Here, I'll show you."

Feeling thoroughly defeated, the previous climbers were now off to the side wringing out their sodden clothing while glaring at the incline; thus leaving the way open for new challengers.

Now in front of one stream, the servant turned his back to it and sat in the chute with his hands and feet planted on the sides.  
"See? Rest your back against the smooth part and climb up the rocks."

Arthur took up his position in the other chute, being mindful of the chain.

Once they were about about a third of the way up, the prince had to admit that this was a good strategy.  
"I suppose you're not a _complete_ idiot, _all_ of the time."

Merlin rolled his eyes.  
"_Thanks_ for that _glowing_ praise, _Sire_."

Half-way up the royal was willing to admit that Merlin may have been right about his weight- though it was only because of the chain mail, of course.  
Probably due to all the magic his servant had forced into it. Yes, it was definitely Merlin's fault.

Three-fifths of the way Merlin slipped.

Frankly Arthur was amazed it hadn't happened earlier and he didn't even comment as he braced himself to take the other man's weight at the other end of the chain.

"Now who's the graceful one?"  
Alright, so he didn't comment _until_ he looked down and saw the warlock spluttering as the water flowed over his face where it was smashed against the hill.

The reply was clearly surly, but entirely unintelligible through the gargling and spitting.

Merlin eventually got himself re-situated and climbed back up beside Arthur, the two of them reaching the top of the hill without further incident.

"_Now_ what?"  
The blond looked down in consternation, not even noticing when Merlin dried both of their clothes with magic.

A blue-robed man blocked their way, large stairs leading downward spread out behind him.

"Welcome to the steps of knowledge."


	40. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

A/N: Ah... hi. Let's just move on, shall we?  
I figured I should give Arthur a little chance to shine before he's crushed by the weight of his own inadequacy ;)

Kirsten: Thanks for the call-out. 'Therefor' and 'therefore' are actually both words (with ever-so-slightly different meanings- somewhat similar to affect/effect). It's entirely possible that I have used the wrong word at one or more points, however, so I shall review that. I admit I often treat them as interchangeable when they are not. Thank you as well for your wonderfully complimentary review- I'm glad you're enjoying this :)

Guest: Yes, I'm continuing this ;) I will not abandon a story. Thanks for the review- hope you like the rest of this just as much (or more)!

Marmar: I certainly hope so :)

* * *

_"Welcome to the steps of knowledge."_

* * *

"Well that doesn't sound too bad."

"Shut up, M- Emrys."

"Already? But I haven't even-"

"Shut up."

The warlock rolled his eyes but acceded nonetheless.

"This challenge will test your learning in a variety of areas. Each correct answer will grant the right to move forward one step. An incorrect response will send you back two steps."

_Of course._ Merlin thought wryly. _Well at least it doesn't mean instant bodily harm- probably._

"Reaching the bottom of the stairs will take you to your next challenge. If another team joins us the first to answer correctly will be the one to advance while all who answer incorrectly will move backward."

_Well that's just perfect. _Arthur mentally grumbled.

Sure, he had had tutors in his younger years, but it isn't as if he actually paid attention to anything they were saying. He had managed to pick up a few things here and there, but for the most part they weren't the sort of thing he was _supposed_ to be learning.

"Your first question: what is the name of the magical creature that resembles a giant scorpion?"

_Seriously?_

Arthur and Merlin looked at each other before the servant nodded.

"Serket" the prince answered, feeling as if he were falling into a trap.

"Correct, take your step."

The two walked down, shackles and chain clinking slightly.

"Next question: what was the original capitol of the Roman Empire?"

"Rome" the royal responded, suspicions only growing stronger.

"Correct."

Another step down.

"What is the name of the Persian religion that worships Ahura Mazda?"

_And there's the rub._

"I don't suppose you know this one, _Emrys_?"

The younger man's teeth were clenched, apparently he had also realized how this game was going to go.

"Can't say that I do."

"Two steps backward."  
The official didn't bother holding back his smirk.

Now they were right back where they started.  
In all probability the official would continue in this manner- giving them easy questions only to be followed by all-but impossible ones designed to crush their spirit and send them back to the top of the staircase.

Arthur turned toward his partner.  
"Is there anything you can do about this?"

Merlin wrinkled his brow in thought.  
"I don't believe so- we're just going to have to come up with enough answers to reach the bottom."

"Your planning skills never cease to amaze."

"_You're_ the one with a formal education."

The blond was about to retort, but was interrupted by their impatient questioner.

"What is the name for the area of a sword between the pommel and the cross-guard?"

"The grip."

"Which mountain range is closest to The Valley of the fallen Kings?"

"The White Mountains."

"Which Greek philosopher, when put on trial for corrupting the minds of the people, proposed that he be punished with a government wage and free meals for the rest of his life?"

Before Arthur could make an angry comment, Merlin put a hand on the other man's arm.

_I know this..._

He remembered the story rather clearly- he had seen it mentioned in one of Gaius' tomes and it struck him as rather amusing (not that it had turned out particularly well in the end).

"Socrates."

The blue-robe grimaced.  
"Correct."

"Name an herb that is used to treat coughs, chest pains, leprosy, fever, and dysentery."

The prince once again deferred to his servant's knowledge in this area.

"Coriander."

"Correct."  
The official ground out.

"Who was the composer of the famous Kontakion of the Nativity and is thought to be the first person ever to sing a kontakion?"

Couldn't have been _that_ famous. Neither of the two even knew what a 'kontakion' _was_.  
Another team reached the steps while they were climbing back up and everything paused while the rules were explained again.

_Great. Competition._

If he hadn't been trained out of the habit the royal would be tapping his foot right now.

"What is the job of a cooper?"

"To make barrels." Arthur's answer was clipped and hostile, only provoking a satisfied smile from the official.

"I will accept that answer. Advance."

Merlin gave him a look that clearly said 'calm down, clot pole.'  
The prince huffed in response.

The opposing pair answered the next two questions ahead of them, smugly taking their steps forward before having to take two backward when they failed to identify one of the signers of the Edict of Milan.

Arthur's lucky guess of 'Constantine' earned them another step forward.  
They were only five steps down, but at least they hadn't lost ground when the other team had beaten them to the punch.

This continued for a while, four more teams catching up and joining the mess as each pair moved up and down the infuriating stairs, until Arthur and Merlin found themselves one step from the bottom.

The predatory look on the blue-robe's face did not bode well.

"Who was the first to solve the Enigma of Aelia Laelia Crispis?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed and Arthur thought he saw a spark of gold there.

"Wait" he whispered, watching their questioner with a tactician's eye.

Clearly the man was confident they wouldn't be able to answer- and why was that?  
They had managed to guess a few purely by luck, and had clearly surprised the man a few times along the way.  
True, pulling _this_ answer out of the ether didn't seem likely, but Arthur doubted he would take that chance.

It was vaguely possible the man wanted to give them a chance to continue so the audience would have some action to watch, but once again this seemed unlikely.  
The blasted know-it-all seemed dead-set on keeping _anyone_ from passing for as long as possible.

Only one solution really made sense to him.

"No one."


	41. Practice

A/N: Over 500 reviews. :D I could weep with joy, no joke.  
Oh, and it was just as I broke 50,000 words- added bonus :)

Got a bit stalled on this one as my original idea for this round turned out not translating well to text :/  
Oh well, these things happen.  
Turned out rather short but I couldn't get my brain to continue from that point.  
Hopefully more will come out tomorrow.

Guest: Thanks- don't worry, I'll be finishing it relatively soon! And yes, the writers did Merlin a great disservice in the 'showing off his power' category.

Nance: Cue recollections of various 'living chess' boards

Marmar: No, he was just getting impatient and his magic was about to act on that ;)

Irene: I wanted Arthur to come out looking fairly well for that round- plenty of time for him to be a prat later ;)

Kirsten: You're welcome and thanks ;) Here's another chapter just for you (and all my other wonderful readers...)

* * *

"_What_ was that?"  
The official asked, voice waspish.

Arthur squared his shoulders and answered more confidently.  
"No one has solved the Enigma of Aelia Laelia Crispis."

Merlin was privately impressed the warrior had managed to even _remember_ the words, let alone pronounce them.

Their interrogator's face was slightly red as he ground out his verdict.  
"Correct. You may continue to the next obstacle."

The pair happily descended the last step and began walking forward.

The arena before them appeared completely empty until their fifth step on flat ground at which point an old man in purple robes appeared, a sheer cliff-face behind him blocking out whatever lay beyond.

As far as they could tell the rest of the arena was abandoned, even the steps they had just come from were no longer in sight.

_Guess they don't want to ruin the surprise..._  
Merlin thought wryly.

"Your task is to reach the summit, from there you will face the final task of round one."  
The elder gestured vaguely at the top of the cliff high above them.

"Well that's straight-forward enough."  
Merlin stated calmly.

Arthur stared at him, visibly restraining himself from saying '_Mer_lin' before exclaiming "do you not see this? It's perfectly smooth- how are we going to climb up?"

The warlock eyed him with amusement.  
"Who said anything about climbing?"

The prince looked like he couldn't decide if he himself were missing something or if the servant's mental affliction had resurfaced.

"Come here" Merlin said, yanking the chain to bring his companion closer and grabbing hold.  
"**Astýre ús þanonweard!"**

"What-?"  
Arthur only had time for a short shout of surprise as the whirlwind kicked up and he suddenly found himself high in the air, precariously perched near the cliff edge.

The two of them stumbled several steps forward before Arthur sank to his knees on the rough, sandy ground.

"A little warning would have been nice."  
The royal ground out, trying to distract himself from the roiling of his stomach.

"Didn't know what to expect- it's the first time I've done that" the warlock said nonchalantly, taking a look around and looking completely unaffected.

"I'd like to say I can't believe you'd do that without practicing first, but I'd be lying."

"I _was_ going to practice on my way to Ealdor, but some mother hen had to escort me."

Arthur wasn't sure what was more insufferable, being called a mother hen or the smirk that showed just how much Merlin was enjoying his master's discomfort.

"Yes well, no more experimenting at my expense."

If anything the warlock's grin grew.  
"Oh, didn't I tell you? Almost _every_ spell I've used during this little adventure has been a first-time thing. Not exactly a lot of opportunity to use the grander magics in Camelot, you know."

The blond groaned, hauling himself upright.  
"I _did not_ want to know that."

"Don't worry Arthur, magic has always been instinctive to me- nothing catastrophic has ever happened from a failed spell of mine."

"_Not_ comforting."

Blue eyes rolled good-naturedly.  
"Done complaining yet? Our next obstacle is waiting."  
He canted his head in the direction of the newly-appeared foliage a few feet ahead of them.

"This again?"

Another purple-robed official was visible at the fringe of the jungle, waiting for them patiently.  
"Ah, Arthur and Emrys- just who I wanted to see."

The pair was taken aback by this unique reaction, the official now smiling at them and causing no small amount of confusion.

"This is the final part of round one. Enter the forest and locate the ruins within. Arriving there first will grant you the right to proceed through round two before the other teams and secure your victory in today's events."

The two sighed and began walking into the jungle once more- the official calling cheerfully after them "watch out for the curshounds!"

"Great" Arthur muttered "I guess we're about to find out just how many you'll attract."

"Seems that way." The warlock replied, seeming almost excited at the prospect.

Both of them drew their swords, using them to hack and push the thick bracken from their path.

"Stop looking so happy, Merlin. It's unsettling."

The thin man flashed him a cheeky grin.  
"Don't worry, _Sire_- I'll protect you."


	42. Blood Brothers

A/N: For anyone who doesn't remember the curshounds (understandable), see the beginning of chapter 25 :)

Be forewarned- in this chapter things get... messy (as in slightly gory)  
It's still a little short, but rather intense.

Nance: Yes, he's gotten a bit out of hand now that Arthur knows he can more-or-less blow everything away at will ;)

Irene: "It's okay, I'm here for you- do you want me to hold your hand, Arthur?" ^_~

* * *

Once they had cleared the thick shrubs and ferns it became clear to them that the jungle this time was different.  
It was completely silent, no animal life in evidence.

Though neither man commented on the fact it was clear by their tense stance and self-imposed silence that they had both noticed.  
Several minutes of creeping through the unnatural stillness passed before rustling was heard in the distance.

"So tell me Merlin- what's the best way to kill these things?"

"I imagine stabbing them will work well enough. Though-"

A high-pitched howl cut through the air and they both clutched at their heads, the sound lancing through their brains and leaving them unsteady.  
Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder to stabilize them both, attempting to speak but finding himself mute.

They exchanged grim looks and took up fighting positions back-to-back.

It is one thing to _talk_ about magic-eating wolf-dogs that are larger than horses and another thing entirely to be surrounded by them in unknown territory.  
The warlock found a sort of morbid satisfaction in seeing the ranks of beasts circling around them- there must have been _at least_ twenty.

Eyes flooding with gold, Merlin let out a wave of force that sent the inner ring of attackers crashing into the distance- only a few whimpers and yelps drifting back from those that had survived the flight.

The rest, however, were not fazed by the loss of their comrades and had rushed forward while Merlin was otherwise engaged. Quick as he was, the curshounds were now entirely too close to focus on another attack like his first and he found himself warding off a pair of giant jaws while sending out smaller blasts of power.

At his back he felt Arthur wielding his sword in signature style, clearly able to hold his own against the beasts.

The battle went well for a time, both fighters able to kill or severely wound many of the monsters- which would then be tossed out of the way by their ravenous brethren.

That was until Arthur's presence at his back disappeared, the warlock's shackled arm being tugged backward.

With an unhealthy lack of regard for the overgrown pseudo-canine he'd been stabbing, Merlin whirled around to see the prince in the jaws of one of their assailants; teeth sinking into his torso.

Eyes widened in fear, he flung up a hand to destroy the beast where it stood- a moment too late as Arthur was hurled out of sight and the chain connecting them snapped.

No sound was coming out but he was screaming, wave after wave of magic bursting from him to fling the curshounds aside as he progressed toward his fallen friend.

He had cut a path nearly all the way through the mongrels when sharp fangs bit into his left shoulder, hooking on his collar bone and scraping his ribs front and back.  
A silent cry of anguish contorted the servant's face as his eyes flared.

The curshounds shrieked as they found themselves aflame, some of them continuing to attack in anger only to be blasted aside while the rest fled.  
Clutching his head at the lingering effects of the howls, Merlin staggered toward the body crumpled against a tree.

Dropping like a stone, the physician's apprentice began assessing the prince's wounds- vaguely aware that his own had apparently been healed sometime during his magical outburst.

This was bad- deep puncture wounds wrapped around Arthur's midsection, the teeth almost having pierced completely through the man.

"Stay with me Arthur." Merlin pleaded, not even consciously noticing that his voice had returned.

"Mer-lin..." The royal's eyes opened slightly, blood leaking from his mouth along with the name.

"Shhh. Just relax, I'll fix this."  
He pressed his hands against the wounds, stomach rebelling at the feel of his friend's blood seeping through his fingers.

"Thought- healing wasn't your... strong... suit."

"Stop talking, clotpole."  
The words came out rather harsher than he'd intended, but he felt it was understandable given the circumstances.

The blond snorted.  
" 'm dying and you still have to insult me."

"Stop being so dramatic, Arthur. You're not going to die."

The royal's reply was forestalled by the rush of magic flowing into his injuries and he gasped as the flesh grew back together and he felt the hot, tingling sensation of the golden power burning away the foreign matter that would have caused infection.

"Merlin... that was..."  
Blue eyes rolled as the knight passed out.

"Arthur?" The servant gently slapped his master's face, then worriedly grabbed a wrist.

The pulse was weak and slow.

Merlin cursed.  
Arthur had lost too much blood- he would still die.

_Not while I'm alive._

Locating the sword he'd carelessly flung aside, the warlock prepared to slice his own hand.

"What're you doin'?"  
Arthur's voice startled him, somehow managing to sound horrified despite the slurring.

"You need blood or you're going to die."  
He made the cut, palm stinging as crimson liquid welled up.

"Then... we'll- do this... right."  
Arthur forced out, the seriousness of his condition highlighted by his lack of argument.

"What?"

Barely able to move, the warrior looked at his own hand with significance.

The warlock's eyes widened in understanding.  
"Arthur, I-"

"Merlin, I know I've- never" he paused to catch his breath "ne'er said so... 'fore. But you- 're lika brother t'me."

Tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat, Merlin could only nod as he made a matching slash across Arthur's palm and pressed their two hands together.

"Blood brothers."  
The prince said firmly.

The warlock gave a watery smile.  
"Blood brothers."


	43. A Minor Confrontation

A/N: So I didn't say it before to avoid spoiling- but the name of this overall series (_Patient Zero, Bound Together_, and the pieces to follow) is "Blood Brothers".

For those of you not aware, blood brotherhood is an actual thing- though I used the 'modern' version of the ritual. (Check out the wikipedia article at /wiki/Blood_brother for more info.) I admit I sort of assumed everyone would know about it since I've seen it a lot of places, but of course we haven't all read the same books (etc.) so that was a bit foolish.

I recently wrote a chapter of another fic that contained the term 'Arthur-lump'.  
My word processor now recommends that as the auto-completion every time I start typing 'Arthur'.  
It makes it rather difficult to take things seriously.  
(Merlin auto-completes to Merlin-and-Arthur-banter.)

Nance: Yeah, Merlin's magic is more battle-savvy than he is ;)

Guest (1) and Kirsten: Thank you :D

Marmar: Yeah, I need an illustrator for some of these scenes :)

Irene: Made me laugh a bit :)

Guest (2): Yes, in canon Merlin's healing abilities are dictated by the needs of the episode plot

Guest (3): You can check twitter even if you don't have an account (not that I updated that particularly well this time...). I don't do the profile update thing because I can never tell ahead of time when I will successfully be able to write again and I don't want anyone to get their hopes up.

Anywayses, that happened. Now for more!

* * *

Merlin held tightly to Arthur's hand, the prince having lost consciousness once more, and willed his blood to flow into the other man with every beat of his heart.

The warlock wanted nothing more than to transfer it all at once and not have to feel the other man's flagging strength, but was well aware that doing so would only send both of their bodies into shock.

Long moments drifted by, another pair of contestants stumbled upon them and wisely chose to skirt the scene of carnage without challenge.

Merlin felt that Arthur was once again safe, but gave a bit more blood before breaking the connection and healing the slices on their palms so that only a faintly silver line remained on each. He allowed himself to rest, not even realizing he'd fallen asleep until a panicked prince shook him awake.

"Wha-? Arthur, calm down. What happened?"

"_Mer_lin..." the blond gave an explosive sigh of relief as he pulled the younger man into an embrace.  
"When I woke up you were collapsed on top of me and I thought... then I saw the blood on you and the holes... just- don't do that again, okay?"

The warlock wanted to make a snarky reply, but held back in the face of the royal's genuine distress.  
Looking down at his clothes he saw what had upset the other man so much.

Lines of tooth-holes showed exactly where the curshound had bitten him, two of them perilously close to his heart and all of them ringed with the evidence of heavy bleeding.

"Arthur," he gently took hold of his friend's shoulders and looked directly into his eyes, "I'm fine. I healed my wounds right after I got them."  
_Presumably._ He hadn't exactly been focused on himself at the time.

"You don't look any better, you know."

The prince looked down, then away- not keen on seeing exactly how much blood he had lost.

"Here."  
Merlin reached out and murmured a few words under his breath, repairing clothing and armor as the rusty red stains disappeared.  
He also took the opportunity to replace the protective spells which had been eaten by the oversized wolf-dog.

A thought struck him with guilt- had he made Arthur a target by layering so much magic onto him?  
Shaking his head, he absentmindedly fixed his own garments.  
_No sense in brooding on it now, what's done is done._

Arthur took stock of himself.  
For someone who had been dying mere moments ago he felt pretty good, possibly better than he had ever felt before- though that may have been an impression created by the thrill of still being alive.

"Merlin, you didn't give me too much of your blood, did you? I don't want to wind up strapping you to my back again."  
Naked worry in his tone belied the implication of his words.

The warlock smiled comfortingly at him.  
"I told you that only happened because I didn't have my magic. I'm perfectly healthy, no need to worry."

In fact, it was rather nice to feel the increased amount of magic flowing through his veins; playing substitute to the blood lost.

"I don't _worry_ Merlin."

"Of course not."  
The servant agreed readily, knowing neither of them believed that for a moment.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few moments, emotions still running a bit high.  
Piercing screams sounding in the distance broke the moment.

"Well, our admirers await."  
Arthur said sardonically.

"Right."  
Merlin replied, bracing himself against the tree and hauling his body into a vertical position before offering a hand to his brother.

The blond looked at it, then lifted his own to survey the new scar there.

"I could remove that, if you like" the warlock offered hesitantly.

Blue eyes snapped up.  
"Why would I want that?"

A warm feeling spread through Merlin's chest.  
"Just thought I should give you the option, _Sire_."

Arthur pulled himself upright, almost sending the slight man back to the ground with his greater weight, then slung an arm around his new brother's shoulder and ruffled the already-disheveled dark hair.

"Come now, Merlin. Brother's don't call each other by titles."

The answering grin was blinding.  
"What about 'prat'?"

"I rather doubt you would stop calling me that even if I asked."

"No, but it would be amusing if you did."

The ruffling changed to knuckle-grinding.

"Augh! Arthur, stop!"

"Hmm... I don't think I will. Seems like perfectly normal sibling bonding to me, actually."

This would have continued indefinitely if two figures hadn't chosen that moment to interrupt.

"Well inn't _this_ a pretty li'l picture?"

Merlin and Arthur looked up, gazes hardening as they fell upon the familiar bearded countenance of the fighter who had initially spoken to them about the curshounds- though he had called them 'silencers'.  
This time his partner was beside him.

He was an older man, clearly unsuited to physical exertion by his bulky but soft body.  
Sweat had already soaked through his blue tunic.

"Why all the hostility? I ain't goin' ter start nothin' here- save tha' for the later rounds, right?"  
The man gave a cruel laugh.  
"I'm sure yer _really_ lookin' forward to that _last_ one."

The prince looked confused, especially when he saw Merlin's face hardening further.

"If you're not going to fight us then leave."  
The pale man stated, voice cold and forceful.

This seemed to amuse their adversary who raised his hands placatingly.  
"Alrigh'. No needta get all in a huff. We'll be seein' yous later- if ya don't die first!"

The man's laugh echoed through the forest unpleasantly as he took off, partner following in his wake.

"What was all _that_ about?"  
A blond eyebrow raised.

Merlin blew out a puff of air, tension flowing out of his body along with the breath.  
"Tell you later- for now I just want to beat that creep."

An unsatisfactory answer, but this really wasn't the time for confrontation or deep conversation.  
"I agree. So, any idea where we need to go?"

Merlin quirked a grin at him.  
"No, but I think I have a way to find out."


	44. Bias

A/N: I really wish I hadn't given that guy an accent on a whim. Bah.  
And yes, I know I've been terrible with updates recently- I think I'm torturing my muse to death by forcing myself to work solely on this story; that will probably change this weekend. (no promises)

Nance: Yes, his powers are progressing rapidly thanks to all the recent practice and the confidence spawned from Arthur's acceptance. As for Arthur-lump, I could find myself using it inadvertently at any time if I let it auto-complete. It's just a mood-ruiner waiting to happen!

Guest: I secretly hope people will ask these kinds of questions since I rarely ignore such considerations but they usually don't fit into the story for one reason or another. So, my reasoning is 1) as two sides of the same coin they really should have compatible blood types- depending on how you interpret that they would either have the same or opposites (Merlin with O, the universal donor; Arthur with AB, the universal acceptor [royals and their rare blood types...]) 2) We're talking way back in the day here when England was far less ethnically diverse and most people would have had a similar genetic background (especially considering there were no drugs to allow women to safely deliver babies despite Rh incompatibility- though that's not completely relevant here); even today O is the most common blood type and that would have been even more true back in the day (I believe A and O are the ones most likely to be found in English 'natives' with A concentrated in peoples from forest and mountain areas) and if that doesn't satisfy you then, sure; 3) magic  
So yeah, as you can see I enjoy explaining my background thoughts (in my mind they are both O).

Irene: All in good time ;)

* * *

Contrary to popular belief Merlin had always had a good sense of direction, often spending days at a time wandering in the forest as a child without ever getting lost (though that didn't stop him from using that excuse when he came home late or skipped out on chores). Lately he had become more aware of that skill's connection to his magic.

Perhaps, with a bit of nudging, he could actually guide them both to the goal despite never having been there.  
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the _feel _of his surroundings; expanding the bubble of awareness his natural aura of magic provided to include the whole of the jungle.

It was the other humans he detected first, like little beacons in his mental map of the area, those with magic showing brighter than those without.  
Then he found it, a small pocket of _wrong_ness in the midst of synthesized nature.

Opening his lids he gasped slightly as his vision warped, the path ahead of them zooming past as if he were being physically pulled forward.  
Merlin swayed, disoriented as he snapped back into himself, eyesight now full of a concerned Arthur.

"Merlin?"

"I'm alright. That was a bit... odd."  
He shook his head to clear the lingering dizziness (a bad idea as he now felt slightly nauseous).  
"This way."

The warlock started walking before Arthur could question his look of discomfort, surreptitiously swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat.  
Hopefully it wouldn't be like this every time- otherwise this was a talent he would let fall by the wayside.

Leaving the smoking remains of curshounds behind, the pair proceeded through the forest unchallenged; Merlin consciously avoiding any routes populated by other competitors- living or dead. He did make a slight detour to treat an injured sorcerer, but that was the only exception.

"It's just past these trees."  
The servant stated, holding aside a curtain of hanging vines so the prince could take the lead.

Arthur having passed, Merlin slipped through and let the vines fall behind him as he stepped forward and almost crashed into his partner who had stopped abruptly.

"What-?"  
His words cut off as he saw the frowning faces in front of them, a red-robed official flanked by two guards with crossbows trained on them.

The prince spared him a glance before returning focus to the scowl on legs who had begun speaking.

"I believe you were informed removal of these shackles by any but another official would result in the harshest of penalties, did you think this did not apply to you?"

"Well we hardly did it on purpose, it was the-"

"Silence!" The official shrieked, interrupting Merlin's attempted explanation.  
"You have removed your restraints and as such-"

Crack!

An official in blue robes appeared between the two groups, a brief breeze being formed by the displaced air.  
"Now now, it was none of their doing. I saw it myself, the curshounds are responsible for the severing of their bonds."  
His face took on a thoughtful cast.

"Seeing as _we_ placed the beasts there it could even be argued that we _are_ the ones who broke their chains."

The first official's face was beginning to match his robe in color as the second calmly dismissed his sentence.  
"That is preposterous, we-"

"They do not deserve punishment, simply reattach their chains and send them on their way- or do you doubt my testimony?"

Red-face grit his teeth.  
"No."

"Wonderful!"  
Blue-robe clapped his hands delightedly.  
"I'll just take care of this while you all return to your posts."

A gesture and quick incantation sent the three men off in a swirl of wind and dirt, their curses letting everyone know just how they felt about the treatment.

"Alright boys," their advocate turned to them with a self-satisfied smirk, "I'll just repair these and you can get back to winning the games- I've got a lot of money riding on you two!"

Another muttered spell and the links rejoined warlock and warrior.

"Good luck!" The man called cheerfully as he disappeared with another crack and inrush of wind.

The pair stared at the spot for a moment, a bit shocked at the suddenness of everything that had just occurred.

"Well that explains the unusual attitude most of the officials have."  
Merlin observed.

"Yes; I'd question the wisdom of allowing officials to gamble on the results of a contest they are presiding over, but I don't think fairness is a priority here."

"At least it worked out in our favor this time."

"Indeed."

They both were now staring at the tumble-down building just beyond the cluster of trees they were standing amongst.  
Another purple-robed individual was standing at the entrance looking disinterested.

"Ready?"

Merlin nodded and they strode toward the official who straightened and tried to look imposing.

"Congratulations!" He proclaimed with false joviality.  
"You are the first team to reach the goal! As such you have the option to continue through the second event or to rest here until the next pair arrives. What is your preference?"

Knowing better than to ask each other, Merlin and Arthur cast analytical gazes over their opposite's form in search of any sign of injury or weariness.

Visual inspection complete, the royal reached out and prodded his servant's torso as the younger man rolled his eyes.  
"Are you satisfied?"

Arthur grunted.  
"About as good as you get, I suppose." He turned to the waiting official. "We'll continue immediately."

"Very well, step into the entrance. Remember- the shackles must remain attached at all times."

"Of course."  
The blond agreed, not really wanting a repeat of the earlier confrontation.

"Let's get this over with."

Merlin nodded and they walked together through the door into darkness.


	45. Key and Sword

A/N: Hey guys, if you're a fan of _White Collar_ you should totally check out my new story "More of a Father".  
It's totes adorbs. (That's not really an accurate description, I just felt like "saying" it.)

Nance: Ah, corruption in the system.

Irene: I'm going to have to join the ranks of people trying to get you to make an account so I can pm you. Make an account!  
I'm not so sure Eoin would have minded if you _had_ touched his hair...  
Why did Tom freak out? Does your thumb bend backward a lot? I'm double-jointed too but I don't really think it's all that noticeable in my thumb (my fingers, however...)  
Oh man, were you in that Harlem Shake video? *sigh* I wish I still had a summer break...

Merlin Addict: No fear, I shall only stop writing this once it is complete (and then there will be sequels... most likely).

* * *

They took a moment to adjust to the lack of sun before proceeding through another door, blinking at the return of light and eyebrows raising slightly at the scene before them.

Obviously there had been more to the doors than it seemed as the pair now found themselves in another arena entirely, this one smaller than they were accustomed to with stands completely packed full of nobles who were now cheering or booing at them (depending on their bets).

Before them was a stone structure lacking exterior walls- presumably so the crowd could see all the action.

Merlin and Arthur were ushered forward by an impatient guard who shoved them in front of an aged purple-robe.

"Welcome to the Hidden Ruins" he said as if they should recognize the generic name.  
"Your task will be to locate this object."

A parchment was unrolled to reveal an illustration of a golden disc, about the size of Arthur's palm and carved with runic designs.

"Once you have done so you must proceed to a particular room with an empty pedestal. In that room you will find three pieces of a statue which you must assemble atop the pedestal to reveal the way out of the ruins. Is everything clear?"

The pair looked at each other, Merlin shrugged.

"Of course" Arthur assured.

"Then be on your way."

The building had two doors, identical but for the emblems painted on them- one a key, the other a sword.  
A painted line connected the two portals at waist-height.

"So... I vote for _not_ going through the door with a sword on it."

"Stop being such a girl _Mer_lin."

The warlock rolled his eyes.  
"Fine, but I'll go first- I want to check for magical traps."

The knight gave him a disgruntled look but allowed the scrawny man to lead.

Merlin grabbed the handle of the sword-door and pulled, then pushed, then tugged repeatedly.  
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

"Having a bit of trouble?"

"Well let's see you do it, then."

The blond reached out and yanked at the door, nearly stumbling backwards when he met no resistance.  
The eyebrow reached new heights.

Merlin's brow, on the other hand, furrowed in suspicion.  
Nevertheless, he made to walk through the door Arthur was now holding open for him- only to smash into an unseen barrier.

"Now this is just ridiculous."

The crowd was laughing, but he managed to ignore it (he had a good bit of practice in that area).

Arthur frowned, extending his arm and once again encountering no opposition.  
"Perhaps we should try the other door."

Merlin was pulling it open before the prince even finished his sentence.

"I like this way better already."  
He stepped through the frame and came back out feeling inordinately pleased with himself.  
"I told you we should go this way."

The royal snorted as his eyes rolled.  
"Very well, lead on oh wise adviser."

The younger man strode forward confidently, senses alert for suspicious magical activity- though really, it was saturating the air to the point where it would be difficult to identify specific sources.

A yelp from behind and a tug on the shackles informed him that Arthur was now the one stuck outside.  
Merlin was just sorry he didn't get to see the older man walking into his own invisible wall.

"Huh. Well _this_ is inconvenient."

"Thank you for the helpful observation."  
The prince said in a sour tone, rubbing his nose.

"How did you manage to hit your nose? Shouldn't your foot have hit first? A hand maybe?"

"Says the man who somehow managed to make full-body contact only a few moments ago."

"Yes, but I'm known for being clumsy- it's part of my charm. _You_, on the other hand..."

"Shut up Merlin."

The servant gave a short chuckle before returning to his inspection of the two doors.  
That line between the two of them...

Deciding to experiment, he left Arthur obsessing over his nose and walked through the key-door.  
Gathering the chain connecting their manacles, he moved it toward the stone wall until it was actually going _through_ the blocks.

Satisfied, he returned to his brother's side.  
"If you're quite finished I've found the solution to our problem."

The blond stopped trying to look at his own nose and focused on his pale friend.  
"Oh?"

Merlin pointed at the opposite door with his chin.  
"Go over to yours."

Arthur went, glancing curiously back at Merlin in front of his own portal.

"Now walk inside."

It was a testament to Arthur's growth that he didn't ask for explanation, merely followed the direction.  
The fighters once again found themselves in darkness, this time without the comforting presence of their companion alongside.

"Huh," was the warrior's only comment at the chain now freely swinging through the solid stone wall.

"A neat bit of magic, if less than ideal. Come back out for a moment, I have another idea."  
The warlock was not at all keen on letting Arthur on his own in this strange, magic-infested death trap and he had a potential solution.  
"Remember when I told you a sorcerer needs to see the target of his spell to direct the magic?"

Arthur nodded, uncertain where this was going.

"Well I'd like to be able to keep an eye on your side of things so I can provide support if needed."

The prince huffed.  
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, _Mer_lin."

The servant's expression grew serious, sincere.  
"Please, Arthur. It would make me feel better."

"You and your feelings..."  
One glance at Merlin's face was enough to convince him.  
"Alright. I suppose you have some sort of spell to accomplish this?"

An impish smile lit the younger man's face.  
"Perhaps."

He reached up and untied his neckerchief, the fabric returning to snake form as he coiled it in his hand.  
"Arthur, meet Lynette."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"


End file.
